


Evolve

by sheepister



Series: Captive [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:20:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 140,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepister/pseuds/sheepister
Summary: Book 2 of Captive. The dark, violent roleplay based off the idea of Vegeta and Nappa coming to Earth with Raditz, too powerful for anyone to even prepare for, and then leaving with Bulma.Reuploaded after my co-creator deleted it.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs & Vegeta, Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Series: Captive [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868254
Comments: 67
Kudos: 115





	1. Away From Home

  


His POV

As much as Bulma was watching the outside world shrink away, Vegeta was tuning in to her every move. Over the last week he’d been growing accustom to watching for her mood swings, no matter how massive or slight they may be. It was becoming natural to him now, to notice, to understand. He’d been so prepared to leave at the drop of a hat if he noticed something that didn’t set well within him, but never realized the deep seeded instinct it was breeding within him. And it worked in his favor a little more each time.

The quickening of her heart beat wasn’t lost to him. He sensed it, as well as the soft hitch between her breaths. It was the edge of crying, he recognized what it sounded like when she attempted to hide it from him by now. But that was the key, she was trying. She didn’t want to appear weak in front of him, and that was something the prince could respect. She could handle it; she was proving that much already. However, the beast wasn’t one to comfort. It confused him more than anything really, and he barely realized she needed it when she did. But then she placed her head on his shoulder and he understood, or at least he attempted to.

His large hand fell gently to her shoulder, cradling her to his warm chest. It wasn’t much of a gesture, but it was more than anything he’d ever give to anyone else. A little while later the soft beeping of the control system broke the silence. Vegeta cleared his throat, leaning forward just enough to engage the landing. They’d finally made it to their next planet. A busy world of sand and commotion. That familiar jerky rumble of a soon-to-be crash landing began to rattle the ship. They were coming in fast, but luckily the soft sand of the tawny world would give them a softer landing then some. It was the blazing heat of the world’s sun they’d have to watch out for.

* * *

Her POV

He held her when she rested her head against his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture was a comfort. Her eyes closed, and she relaxed for the rest of the journey. It hurt to be away from home again, but she didn’t belong there anyway. This is what she wanted. This is where she belonged. Besides, she could come home if she ever wanted to. Nothing was stopping her. If she one day told Vegeta she was going home again, would he stop her? She doubted it. She wasn’t his slave anymore. He would let her do as she pleased. That comforted her even more. It was fine. It’d be okay. By the time the beeping started, signifying that they were at another planet, she had calmed down. She got into position so she wouldn’t get hurt, and was met with the familiar feeling of a hard landing– though slightly softer. When the dust settled, she could see why– all that remained around them was sand.

“Is this another beach planet?” She sat upright in Vegeta’s lap and glanced over at him. “Or is it just a lot of desert? It’s not fun to have to get sunburnt on my first trip out of Earth again, Vegeta. Couldn’t you have picked somewhere with a better climate?” Maybe she was being rude, but she couldn’t help it. It was her just being her normal self, she supposed. Her nose wrinkled a little as the doors opened, and she was met with a gust of sand. Right in her hair. …Couldn’t they have gone somewhere more wondrous? Come on. And it was so hot…

“It’ll at least be cooler in the city, right? Please tell me that much. Or else I’m not getting out of this pod. You have to carry it everywhere. It’s too hot for me to be out!” She huffed at him, raising a brow. “Please, Vegeta? Be nice to me this once, alright? You already forced me to stay on Earth way longer than I wanted to, don’t force me to get a sunburn and heat stroke from being out in this blazing heat for so long, too!”

* * *

His POV

It felt good to be traveling once again. It eased his worn mind and brought a sense of renewal to his spirit; like a gust of fresh air. The woman had a point, planet hopping felt much more natural after a life of complication than settling down ever could. Vegeta was yet again in his element, he was in a sense, home. Earth may have proven useful and somewhat tempting, but this is where he belonged. And this time, for the first time, he had his earthling tucked away into his lap not as a captive, but as a comrade.

Once the dust settled from the pod’s cruel landing, the door revealed yet another world for them to explore. And wouldn’t he know it, the woman was already throwing a bitch fit over his choice of landing spots. Vegeta’s lip curled, granting the female an irritated growl. He wasn’t listening - she should have expected that just as much as he should have expected her disapproval. The pod door flipped down, and Vegeta stepped right out, ignoring her.

Then his cotton shirt went flying at her through the opening of the pod door. So, she was worried about the sun, was she? Well now she couldn’t complain that she didn’t have something to shade her delicate head. See, he wasn’t being completely thoughtless. Then the beast really took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He scooped her up by her thighs and right out of the pod, despite any quarrels she may have had with him. His bare torso gleamed as golden as the sands around them with the woman nestled safely over his shoulder.

“You wanted this, remember?” he barked. Raditz and Nappa had already caught up, ready to follow their prince’s lead. And then they were airborne. Flying revealed the baking desert for all it was worth. Miles after miles of nothing but desert. Then, in the growing distance, there was a bubble. Lots of bubbles. Like floating dish-soap over the horizon. It had been a short trip, but the sun was extraordinarily hot, even Vegeta felt it, which couldn’t have boded well for his sensitive earthling. The air was thin and the heat must have been in the death zone. His gaze glanced towards her just before they found the life-giving city. They phased through the city’s barrier like a partial through a soap bubble, and on the other side was a gush of cool air, a bustling street, and bright vegetation.

* * *

Her POV

She glared him down as he got out of the pod, leaving a fucking white t-shirt for her. She grabbed the stupid sweaty thing and was just about to toss it at him in anger, but instead, he grabbed her legs and forcibly removed her from the pod. She let out a yell of surprise and anger when he did so, and as she started thrashing, he just set her down on his shoulder. Goddamn him! She didn’t fight back anymore, instead trying to use the t-shirt as a kind of parasol to protect her from the sun’s rays. What a douchebag! He couldn’t just carry the pod?! Wouldn’t it make it easier for him, anyway!? He’d done it before; it couldn’t be that damn hard! Gnn…

He launched into the air, and they seemed to be flying for hours. The sun was sweltering, and the heat only seemed to get worse. It was hot enough that the little clothes she was wearing felt too much. She wished she could just strip down naked. She may have wanted to go out into space again, but she didn’t want to be cooked like a turkey! God, she was sweating all her makeup off! Or, she would be, if she hadn’t been so efficient in what kind of makeup she used. She was certainly praying for the sun’s rays to stop killing her, though.

She was basically unconscious by the time Vegeta actually got anywhere close to even seeing the soapy bubbles in the distance. One eye was barely cracked open, and her lips begged for water. Goddamn, how did these Saiyans do it? She was so tired… So hot… Why couldn’t he have kept her in the goddamn pod?! Why did he have to take her somewhere this dangerous as her first planet she went to now that she was off Earth? She could feel herself slipping. Her eye slowly closed, and she began to lean more and more to the side.

Her body rested against Vegeta’s head and she dropped Vegeta’s t-shirt to gently flutter down into the dunes below. She may not exactly be dead yet, but she surely had sunburn and a bad case of heatstroke. When would Vegeta realize that humans were not as tolerant of extreme temperatures as Saiyans? It wasn’t like that hadn’t already been proven well enough by the frozen planet that she nearly died of hypothermia at. This… Was not… What she needed!

* * *

His POV

The sizzling heat of the planet’s surface was enough to make a grown Saiyan sweat. By the time they’d arrived into the cool arboretum of the city limits, lines of perspiration were dripping from the thee soldiers’ chins. It was like a warm summer’s day to them, but for poor Bulma it appeared to be a little too much. Vegeta could tell the moment her body went from just heavy, to completely limp. His grip tightened; however, he knew there was little to nothing he could do about it if she did decide to pass over to otherworld. They were too far out. Her only hope would be reaching the orb-like city as quickly as possible.

Maybe he should have carried the pod… Then he wouldn’t be sitting on the edge of a fountain while onlookers watched him tend to the unconscious woman like a pair of primates behind glass. In fact, their little group were the only mammals in sight. The fertile bubble of vegetation and crystal waters was home to a slew of bug like creatures, and oh, where they beautiful. As colorful as the giant flowers that bloomed above and as whimsical as the vines that curled around every lamp post. Their massive eyes were like bee hives and their furry heads were topped with feathery antenna. Sure, there were other off-worldly alien bustling through the streets, it was a major inter-planetary city after all, but the majority of the populous were anthropoids.

Cold water trickled over the girl’s sleeping face. Vegeta had dipped his hand into the pool, then allowed the droplets to fall over her features, attempting to wake her up. The massive, rushing fountain gushed overhead, falling like a rain of diamonds. Damn, wouldn’t she wake up? This was getting uncomfortable… His teeth grit, huffing in frustration. Gently, he shook her. He’d even gone as far as to clear his throat and mumble her name under his breath. It was hard enough taking care of the woman when it was behind closed doors. Did she really have to go unconscious now, of all times? The hard lines of his face grew tighter, impatient. Nappa was doing his best to give them some privacy; standing guard like a brick wall before them. Raditz, on the other hand, had been sent to pick up water. The girl was clearly dehydrated.

* * *

Her POV

Even when the heat subsided, she didn’t wake up right away. It took a while for her body to fully adjust. Eventually, she opened her eyes to the feeling of cool water trickling over her face. Vegeta was staring down at her with stern eyes. She blinked and looked around, taking in the sights. Her head throbbed, and she felt so damn weak. She rubbed her head and tried to sit up, holding one hand on Vegeta’s shoulder for support. This wasn’t a desert; it was much cooler here. Much nicer. And when her eyes focused, she could see why. It was a bubble, like the water planet she’d run off to before. She could see the desert just beyond the soapy bubble walls, a protection from the blazing heat.

“Ahh… It’s pretty,” she mumbled, realizing how much she missed witnessing sights like this. Even if what she went through outside her little planet was awful, this was still a beautiful place. Lots of colors and plants, with waterfalls and beautiful streams of blue. The people themselves were beautiful, even. They looked similar to insects back on Earth, but they were beautiful colors that were seen rarely. Many of them looked like orchid mantises, though others had much deeper blues and greens that looked more like shiny scales than insect exoskeletons.

“…Can I have water?” Even in the sights were pretty, she had more important things to worry about. She was dying of thirst. She licked her lips in some terrible effort to wet them, and took a glance over at Nappa. Where was Raditz? Maybe he was going and doing just that. She reached up with her free hand and rubbed her head. He’d better not take too damn long; she was unbelievably thirsty. though it was Vegeta’s fault for not heeding her warning. She told him it was too hot for her! He didn’t listen. Of course, he didn’t listen.

* * *

His POV

An eyebrow twitched anxiously; he was losing his patience. Why the hell wasn’t she waking up yet, and where in blue blazes was Raditz with that water?! The prince was getting agitated. The only thing that kept his mind on track was imagining the various ways he’d punish his soldier if he didn’t return soon. And then there was the slightest bit of movement in his arms, and all other thought vanished - luckily for Raditz. She was awake, staring up at him with dazed blue eyes. He’d been holding her for the duration of her little heat stroke.

“Give me that!” Vegeta angrily snatched one of the two water bottles Raditz was carrying as soon as he was in reach. The lid was screwed off, and the ice-cold bottle was shoved into Bulma’s hands. Though he was still watching her through a scowling expression, Vegeta was more pleased to see her moving than anything. Especially since her moving meant he didn’t have to hold her any more… in public. As soon as Bulma found her bearings she was shoved off of his lap and plunked onto the rim of the shimmering fountain. Finally, he could breath.

“There’s a boarding house a few doors down,” mentioned Raditz, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. He didn’t look too pleased to see the female awake, but he was keeping his mouth shut for the meantime. The long-haired soldier hadn’t found his prince’s decision to bring her a wise choice. That, and he hadn’t gotten any ‘properly’ since their stay on earth, he was blaming that on her, too. Nappa on the other hand, was keeping any disapproving thoughts to himself, though he had turned around to watch his prince a little closer.

“We’re not going to a boarding house, not yet,” Vegeta snapped, standing firmly from the fountain side. In no time at all he was moving through the colorful streets. It didn’t matter the odd glances he was given from the insectoids as he moved through the crowd, he was on a mission. He was shirtless, she was wind-blown, and all of them were covered in sweat. They all looked like something the desert winds blew in. Both Nappa and Raditz shared a surprised glance before going on their own pursuit. And of course, he didn’t plan on stopping until he found the one and only ‘Planet Trading Post’.

* * *

Her POV

Fairly quickly, a bottle of water was shoved into her hands and she was pushed off his lap. She was still feeling weak, with a headache and a general weakness in her muscles. Her eyes closed for a moment, but Vegeta seemed to already discuss getting up and going elsewhere. She began drinking her water to help get her energy back up, though she debated asking about being carried. Though considering how standoffish Vegeta has been, and how irritated he looked at that moment… It was probably best to just listen to him and keep her mouth shut.

She got up when he did, albeit slower than he did. She followed him down the street, also noting the looks she was getting from people. Looks she happened to be giving right back to them, given how odd they all looked to her. She stayed silent, however, instead opting on focusing on staying alert as she followed Vegeta. She still had a massive headache, and cradled her bottle of water just as you’d expect someone who’d just suffered heat stroke from such a long time in the desert to.

“Nn… Where are we going, anyway?” she asked quietly, trying to keep Vegeta’s pace even though she was both feeling weak and trying to take in all the sights. That was something these Saiyans never seemed to do– just enjoy the beauty of the planets they visited. She recalled Vegeta thinking that it was such a foreign and strange concept to do so, and that all planets are the same. But a magnificent rainbow planet with beautiful blue waterfalls everywhere in a little bubble oasis isn’t something she’d ever witnessed before. And she had a hard time believing that Vegeta had.

“The… Right, the planet trade system.” It took her a moment to remember what his first course of action was supposed to be following visiting Earth. He was buying her planet. She’d forgotten. “Can we get something to eat after? I’m hungry. I know I brought tons of food, but I think I’d like to see what the planet offers. The water hasn’t killed me yet. And I don’t want to go all the way back to that stupid pod.”

* * *

His POV

It didn’t take long for his men to get the jest of what Vegeta was up to. It’d been a while since they’d picked up a mission, and as soon as the planet trading post was in view, both Nappa and Raditz spirits visibly lifted. They’d gone too long without sinking their fists into something other than one another’s faces. They were ready for a fight, to conqueror. However, neither of them would ever know the secondary business their prince had past the trading post’s high arches. As per usual, the two loyal men stood outside of the massive hall’s gates. They watched Bulma pass by, following their prince, like a little lost puppy dog. Why he allowed her in still, they couldn’t tell. Probably to keep her out of trouble, they both assumed. She was good at getting herself into shitty situations, after all.

Vegeta may never have glanced back, but he knew where the woman’s pattering feet were taking her, that she was following him, asking for food. He grunted to her in agreement. His empty gut was ravenous after the long flight. His stride didn’t falter for her to catch up, not even when he reached the impressive building of mossy greens and high twisting branches. He was barking down orders at the poor mantis behind the counter in no time. Something about the planet not being on the market was being preached by the soft-spoken insectoid after Vegeta claimed his interest in ‘Earth’. It's clear, spotted wings fluttered nervously whenever Vegeta leaned in a little too close.

“Every planet has its price,” demanded Vegeta, glaring rather than staring down the clerk. The clerk anxiously revealed the hefty ransom for the blue marble. It wasn’t usual for anyone, even big spenders to buy off-market worlds. It was normally only done between the aristocratic and those with well status. If Vegeta hadn’t had his reputation of a prince to hang over the teller’s head, he may not have gotten anything at all. A chip was passed between the two, giving Vegeta time enough to glance in Bulma’s direction. Then, a clear, hologram like clip-board was passed their way. It needed a prick of the owner's blood. Everything was done through DNA these days. But he didn’t press his thumb to the pad, instead, he passed it apathetically to the girl.

“It’s not my damn planet,” his gravelly voice raked through his teeth, as if he wanted nothing more to do with the damn rock. To be done with it. Though he may have seemed bitter about it, it was more or less a cover up for the awkwardness pumping through his veins. He was giving her planet back.

* * *

Her POV

It was a miracle that Bulma was able to keep up with Vegeta. She felt a little better with every swig of water, but it was no good for someone who just overheated and fainted to be walking around so quickly through a strange city. Did he want her to faint again? She was at least relieved that he agreed to the food comment. They would go get food after this. But first, the planet. He was going to buy Earth for her. That was the only thing really stopping her from begging him to stop and let her rest. She wanted her planet bought as soon as possible. Even if she felt like she may just faint again. She glanced behind herself, gazing at Nappa and Raditz. Would they bother to catch her if she suddenly fell back? Probably not. Then she’d crack her head open, and… Geeze. She really didn’t want to die her first planet back from Earth.

Somehow, though, she made it. They got to the planetary trading post in one piece, and Bulma just happened to lean against the counter a great deal once they got to talk to the clerk. Haah… She sucked down more of her water and closed her eyes as Vegeta busied himself with talking to the clerk. She was used to him threatening others by now. This was nothing she hadn’t witnessed before. She only opened her eyes when she heard Vegeta’s words. It wasn’t her planet. Her gaze focused on a hologram that had been placed in front of them. A contract to buy her planet. …He wasn’t buying her planet; he was letting her buy her planet. Her beautiful, stupid planet, filled with people that she couldn’t connect with anymore but loved and cared for all the same. …She wondered what Yamcha was doing now. Was he heartbroken? Despite her no longer feeling attached like she used to… Her heart burned a little knowing she could have hurt him.

But she grabbed the clipboard regardless. She could protect everyone with this little act, at least. Spare everyone another heartache. Nothing like this would ever happen again, not under her watch. Her thumb pressed down on the pad, and a little needle shot out of it to draw her blood. She winced at the unpleasant feeling, but it was rewarded. A positive chime was sounded, and the hologram turned a pleasant green before disappearing. Words in a familiar but yet barely readable language Bulma recognized as a popular universal language appeared in the hologram screens behind the clerk. It confirmed the purchase. Earth was bought, and the planet’s new owner was none other but a resident of it– Bulma Briefs. Despite the bittersweet feeling, Bulma had a smile on her face. She reached over, despite her bleeding thumb, and gripped Vegeta’s arm tightly. A thank you gesture. She glanced over at him. Did he know how happy this made her? How much this meant to her? How glad she was that she’d never have to worry again?

Of course he did. That’s why he did it. Not that she’d bother him by talking about it. He’d be embarrassed. She’d save him the irritation by changing the subject gently.

“…Vegeta, let’s go eat now.”

* * *

His POV

The soft scent of the earthling’s blood peppered the air. It was done then. Over. He’d never have to think of that worthless planet ever again. Though, he found himself not as bitter towards the world as he’d expected. His time on her planet had somewhat softened him to her little blue orb. While Vegeta certainly didn’t put as much value into the planet as Bulma did, it was safe to assume that some part of the war-lord was glad to know the planet would no longer be harmed, too.

He could see the smile on her face from the corner of his eye. The anxiety of her babbling on about her world again, after what he’d just done, rolled over him. But she didn’t mention it, she merely tugged his arm, and surprisingly he didn’t pull away. A simple glance her way and a sway in his stance was his relaxed way of accepting her gratitude, silently. Vegeta was just as equally grateful for her gentle change of subject. She did know how to ease him, that was clear. However, as much as he wanted to take up her offer, he still had one thing yet to do.

“I’m also here to pick up a mission,” he spoke to the clerk as much as Bulma. It was his way of explaining to her, to fill her in; he was progressing. A list of available worlds cascaded onto the clear screen. Their hologram forms rotated just before them. Vegeta knew he couldn’t leave the Trading Post without one. Otherwise his men would catch on that something other than ‘regular business’ went on that day. Without so much as consulting Bulma, he picked one out. It had a hefty price listed for its head, not to mention a reputation. Bulma may have gone on about bounty hunting before, but this was something he knew would give him a few credits in his pocket. The prince needed security after the fortune he’d just handed over, and planet purging was the quickest means. How could she scold him for that? Still, he glanced her way as he headed for the door, trying to catch her reaction without her noticing.

Raditz and Nappa were waiting for them just outside, blissfully unaware of the affairs going on just behind their stony backs. All they could think about were females and food. How long had it been since they’d probably pit-stopped at a planet? Every female that walked by, insectoid or otherwise, was ogled. The smell of food twisting through the colorful streets was making their mouths water. And oh, did it smell fantastic. The amazing smell lead up through the city and to the base of an enormous tree. Its full branches lifted to the clear dome above. The doors themselves where velvety leaves that had to be pushed back to enter. Inside, was a tea house.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time, hasn't it? We do have a good amount of chapters to go on this one. Hopefully more as time goes on, since we're getting back into it. We'll see.  
> The last book ended rather sloppily since this is a roleplay rather than a fanfic. It felt like a natural place to cut off. I hope you all understand.  
> I also like to imagine that, while Book 1 is about the kind of changes Bulma goes through, Book 2 is more largely about the changes Vegeta goes through, and how they make their own sort of species, between a human and a saiyan.
> 
> This is also a bit short of a chapter; half the size of other ones, I think? Don't think anything of it. I thought it was a good size for a sort of 'epilogue.'  
> 


	2. Back to Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life with the Saiyans continues as it always had, and Bulma finds a surprising bit of trouble for lashing out.
> 
>   
> 

  


His POV

“I’m also here to pick up a mission,” he spoke to the clerk as much as Bulma. It was his way of explaining to her, to fill her in; he was progressing. A list of available worlds cascaded onto the clear screen. Their hologram forms rotated just before them. Vegeta knew he couldn’t leave the Trading Post without one. Otherwise his men would catch on that something other than ‘regular business’ went on that day. Without so much as consulting Bulma, he picked one out. It had a hefty price listed for its head, not to mention a reputation. Bulma may have gone on about bounty hunting before, but this was something he knew would give him a few credits in his pocket. The prince needed security after the fortune he’d just handed over, and planet purging was the quickest means. How could she scold him for that? Still, he glanced her way as he headed for the door, trying to catch her reaction without her noticing.

Raditz and Nappa were waiting for them just outside, blissfully unaware of the affairs going on just behind their stony backs. All they could think about were females and food. How long had it been since they’d probably pit-stopped at a planet? Every female that walked by, insectoid or otherwise, was ogled. The smell of food twisting through the colorful streets was making their mouths water. And oh, did it smell fantastic. The amazing smell lead up through the city and to the base of an enormous tree. Its full branches lifted to the clear dome above. The doors themselves where velvety leaves that had to be pushed back to enter. Inside, was a tea house.

* * *

Her POV

Bulma didn’t enjoy the fact that he was picking up a mission. Why would she? She knew full well what that meant. Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t say a word. She just held onto Vegeta, watching him pick where he wanted to go on his next mission. Someplace that had a large bounty; someplace dangerous. Maybe he was taking her idea of being a bounty hunter to heart? Only time would tell. Even as they left the place, she couldn’t help but wonder to herself what she’d witness next. Would she have to see so many women go through what she went through again? See innocent children be maimed and murdered and devoured again? She began to feel sick as she followed Vegeta down the colorful roads, remembering Nappa eating the corpses of the sheep and goat children. It felt so long ago, but the memories and emotions still hurt, like a festering wound when the stitches keeping it together pop off violently.

She kept ahold of Vegeta’s arm. She couldn’t help it. Hell, she even squeezed it tighter yet, resisting the urge to puke right there on the street. Her eyes closed, and she swallowed the spit in the back of her throat, threatening to make way for bile. No. She wouldn’t puke. She shivered, however, as she recalled those memories, before opening up her eyes again and taking in the beautiful sights as a way of getting her mind off of things. That tree up ahead– it was beautiful. Massive and winding and vibrant. It smelled– almost like the ocean, actually. Something in its chemical composition made it smell like a warm, breezy Summer day at the beach back on Earth.

They walked in, and Bulma was met by even more smells. Smells of savory foods and drinks and more perfume-like smells that made her recall Earth. All of them watery in some way. A dewy morning. The smell of ozone after the rain. The smell of a creek. The smell of a lake… It was… Interesting. How watery this planet was, despite the inhabitants being insects. She supposed it just went to show that even if they looked like something she remembered on Earth, that didn’t necessarily mean they were like Earth. These insects didn’t seem to be afraid of water at all. Then again, would insects on Earth really, if they were the size of these ones…?

She came to the realization she was still holding onto Vegeta’s arm. She debated letting go, but decided against it, instead holding onto him a bit tighter after her strength had pittered off before. It was a form of comfort, holding onto him like a baby gorilla to her mother’s back. She couldn’t help herself. She felt nervous, and so she held on. Besides, he was the boss. Why would he dislike the idea of being in control, and Bulma allowing him to have control?

* * *

His POV

Bulma may not have approved of the Saiyan’s decision to pick up a mission, judging by that tight lip of hers, but at least she wasn’t being vocal about it. For once. That was all Vegeta really cared about; if she’d create a scene and put him into yet another sticky situation. But she didn’t, and some part of the warrior had to wonder if she was finally starting to put some consideration into his actions. Only time would tell. It didn’t matter, all he cared about now was getting food as quickly as possible. He may not have showed it, but Vegeta was just as ready to return to life as he’d previously known it (more or less) just as much, or more, than the rest of them.

The death grip the girl had on his arm wasn’t brushed off, but Vegeta definitely noticed it. How couldn’t he? Her fingernails were digging into his tough skin. He mildly glanced her way, but kept walking. This would be her first test. Bulma had convinced him to bring her along after her week of therapy, but this would be her first time off earth since her last break down. Would she prove strong, would she break? At one point he thought she was going to puke, she certainly looked like it, but he kept the pace despite his gut reaction to inspect her wellbeing. He needed to know just how much she could handle.

“How many in your party?” chimed a beautiful young voice. It was the first hostess of the evening, followed by glancing eyes of every variety. So, this was where all of the off-worlders had gathered. There were creatures of every size, every shape, and every color moving through the tranquil stalls of the tea house. Or rather, hostess house, as it was referred to in this oasis like dome. Even a few of the hostess themselves were of alien origins. Their geisha like faces and beautiful fabrics were explicitly inviting. The line of awaiting servants ogled the new comers, including Bulma. Indeed, mammals were rare on this planet and all of them were anxious to know who’d get to entertain their exotic guests.

“Thr-” Vegeta cleared his voice, correcting himself, “Four.” Sure, Bulma hadn’t been a slave under him for a while now, but this was their first journey into a ‘whore house’ with her as a comrade. Both Nappa and Raditz had been openly eye fucking the train of polite hostesses, all trained to stand still and wait for their next customer to pick them out for a good time. Raditz thumbed towards one girl in particular. A beautiful cream-colored insectoid with flowing moth-like wings dipped in pink. Her feathery antennea were as soft and delicate as the way she carried herself. Vegeta grunted, as if saying ‘she’ll do’, and followed the hostess’s lead to their private stall. Nappa took the liberty of pulling a second, tentacle headed, hostess along for the ride. As if he’d go un-amused. Vegeta, however, lightly pressed his hand into the sway of Bulma’s back, ushering her alongside him. Not that it was all that difficult with how closely she was.

* * *

Her POV

Somehow, she stopped herself from puking. And when they’d gotten inside the tea house, it was easier to force away negative thoughts. Instead, she looked around at the place. Everything was made out of polished wood. Wood from the tree itself. It kept going up and up and up, looking to have been carved from the tree itself and then polished into perfection. But the tree still had leaves on the outside; how did it survive like this? She had to remind herself this wasn’t Earth, and this wasn’t a tree as she knew trees. This thing must be hardier than the life she knew on Earth, just like so many other things in the universe.

Her eyes wandered to the hostesses waiting to take them, and to the two idiots behind her that were all but eye-humping the girls. But she couldn’t help but think… They looked like insects. Would this be something that changed? So far it seemed most things in the universe had similar reproductive organs to humans on Earth. But what about these? They wanted to fuck them so bad, but would they even be able? If they would be, would their mating habits be… Different? Bulma couldn’t help but think about the amount of insects back on Earth that behead their male counter parts during sex and then eat them. She watched as the two disappeared into the tea room with their hostesses. …She’d like it if they got their heads eaten. Yes, she definitely would.

Her eyes flicked back to Vegeta as he pulled her along with them. He was being unusually nice. Or maybe she just expected him to go back to his shitty ways once they were off Earth. His hand on the curve of her back made her feel protected, even if this place didn’t necessarily warrant it. Though she had no way of knowing; everywhere seemed dangerous. Zarbon… She had to remember Zarbon. Her brows furrowed for a moment, but they relaxed again as she instead looked around the tea room they’d been brought to. There were small cushions for them to sit on the ground, and a table carved out of wood just like everything else. On top lay stones hollowed out and filled with water, with pretty little teacups on top of them, sitting in the water. Hn. She glanced down at her water bottle, and shoveled it into her purse for later.

“We– They sell food here, too, right? Tea’s nice and all, but I’m more hungry than anything else now.”

* * *

His POV

Vegeta had been the last to enter the serene little booth. He followed up his pack like the head honcho he was, seeing to it that all was taken care of and accounted for. Still, his men didn’t sit until he seated himself at the more comfortable end of the table. Relaxed, watchful, and confident, his hand finally relinquished from Bulma’s back once he sensed her nerves had calmed. However, that left her sandwiched in between Vegeta’s reclusive posture and Raditz’ giant size. Her earthling frame was tiny in comparison, and whenever the big soldier shifted or reached for something, she was sure to get a brush of his hair or a graze from his side.

“Yeah, where’s the food?” Raditz agreed to Bulma’s comment, even though it probably wasn’t meant for him. “Nappa, stop fingering your whore and order something to eat,” his voice held a little more vile that time. Without a second thought, Raditz pulled the tentacle headed hostess from Nappa’s grasp, nearly toppling her head into Bulma’s lap. The lack of gentleness or class startled the hostess behind the table, but Vegeta remained unfazed. The bald man had been feeling up the poor girl since they’d sat down, needless to say he wasn’t happy, but he had to admit he was damn starving too.

“Go on, get yer’ ass goin’ girlie,” Nappa grumpily agreed. While trying her best to remember her manners, the hostess quickly scampered up and out of the stall door. The sweet moth-like hostess couldn’t have been more grateful for the table that separated her from the group of men that were now staring her down. She returned to her craft, pouring and flavoring the spring water that filled the stone basin. The steam of brewing tea leaves soon perfumed the air, and once she had finished her delicate dance of cups and tea pots, each one of them were given their own luscious little warm bowl. Yet, once a bowl was passed towards Bulma, the moth fluttered an unmistakably peculiar glance her way. There could have been a million reasons behind it. The earthling was a primate, something rare, beautiful, but it could have also been a curiousness as to why such a pretty creature was seen with such ruthless males, yet wasn’t being treated like a common slave. Needless to say, it was unusual.

* * *

Her POV

Her eyes turned to Vegeta when she felt him remove his hand from her lower back. She didn’t say anything, and went back to watching the woman in front of her, stiffening at the feeling of Raditz brushing against her from the side. The days where he was allowed to grab her however he pleased was only a couple months in the past, of course she’d still be disgusted at his touch. She debated moving around Vegeta to the edge. Would he say something about it? …Maybe it wasn’t a good thing to leave Earth. Not that she’d be going back any time soon, but seeing a girl nearly get thrown down into her lap by Nappa being aggressive, and the look in her eyes when being kicked around after being fondled– She’d been there. He hadn’t learned, after losing his eye? She wondered what would happen to him if he lost the other. She side-eyed him, her brows beginning to furrow. Would Vegeta just kill him? That would be nice. Scum like this that couldn’t learn to be nice… Why would they deserve anything but death?

She watched the poor woman collect herself and head out of the room, and that’s when the little tea ceremony was started. She didn’t really care too much about the formalities of her little hand-dance, though she tried to be respectful. God knows the other three wouldn’t be. But really, making so many hand gestures just to fill up a cup with tea? Not to mention… She couldn’t help but wonder. Would it be safe for her to drink? She drank the bottled water fine, and Vegeta was splashing water on her face before, so she should be okay, she supposed. But one of the last planets she was on, where she was burning from the acidic water, came to mind. After catching a strange look from the moth woman, a glance at Vegeta again came when she set a cup of tea down in front of her. Then again, he thought the water on the other planet was safe, too. She turned her head to stare down into the tea, purplish in hue from the herbs they’d put in there and smelling of seafoam. …Maybe she’d just wait for the food. Not like it looked too appetizing.

It wasn’t long, thankfully, until the other woman returned, with some friends, with plenty of food. Though she was met with a reminder again that she wasn’t on Earth. None of the food looked like anything she’d seen thus far. None of it looked like meat; mostly like leaves and possibly some kind of fruit or vegetable. The colors were almost all deep greens, with some hints of yellow or red. It looked… Like insect food. And not at all filling. When the plates, made from giant leaves, were placed in front of them and beside their teacups, Bulma’s nose couldn’t help but wrinkle. The most appetizing thing on the plate looked to be some kind of oat or grain, a light brown color and sprinkled along one of the edges of her plate. But still, certainly not filling, and none of this was what she had in mind. Though she knew she didn’t really have to say anything. The three were vocal enough to let their complaints be heard. She knew that by now, if nothing else.

* * *

His POV

Formalities, it was never something the Saiyans respected unless it was to their own breed. Still, with the knowledge that food was on the way they played nice, barely. The trio must have looked like a pack of ravenous wolves that’d found their way into a sheep’s pin, playing nice until something crossed their path. Vegeta had caught the odd look Bulma had thrown him at the offering of her tea. She feared the water, he knew what that look meant, but he didn’t do a damn thing about it. Not outwardly at least. No, he carelessly took his own cup after a few moments passed and sniffed it. Then, he took a sip. It wasn’t his thing and he knew it. Too foamy and sweet for his tastes. He wouldn’t have even considered it in all honesty, if Bulma hadn’t silently looked to him for reassurance. But after a while he placed his cup a little too close to Bulma’s, enough that it was sure to catch her attention. His way of assuring her that yes, it was safe for her to drink.

To say the Saiyans were less than pleased when their food finally arrived would have been an understatement. Noses snarled and Nappa’s one good eye glared as hard as he could muster it. He’d been the one to send the hostess to fetch food and this is what she’d brought for them. For his prince no less. Vegeta himself didn’t look pleased. Even with his nonchalant posture resting confidently over the mound of pillows that lay strewn around the table, his face bore the look of a cold-hearted criminal. In their minds it was worthy of a brutal punishment, or a lesson in respect at least.

“You call this food?” grimaced Nappa, “What’d ya’ expect us to eat this for?!” The man grew louder. Grabbing one of the hostesses by the arm, he threw her to the ground, forcing the poor shivering girl to kneel beside him. The man’s force had surely damaged the small insect's arm. Food spilled across the table, anything else the servants may have been holding was lost in the chaos. Nappa wasn’t the only one causing a ruckus, though. Radtiz was greedily ready to jump into the scene, probably bumping his massive body into Bulma time and again. That was the only time Vegeta cared to give notice, it seemed. Otherwise the prince had been rather austere; watching the horrible actions of his soldiers as if it dulled his brain. Though, he had looked Bulma’s way once, catching her glance.

“I don’t know,” smirked Raditz at Nappa, “This one looks good enough to eat, how do you feel about calamari?” That got a good laugh out of Nappa. Raditz was mocking the tentacle headed hostess’s species. Pulling her delicate head piece, he gave it a lick, before the girl managed to wriggle out a few words about ‘I’ll bring proper food!’ in her most terrified voice yet. The hostess had saved her own skin, if just a little. However, that left the sweet little insect that had only come as a helping hand to serve the meal. It was a young female, a beetle. The two soldiers were pent up; their lack of ‘normalcy’ had been bubbling their blood-thirsty natures over, and now they were ready to feed that horrible side they so often showed. Particularly Raditz, who quickly man handled the innocent girl onto the table and went for his pants zipper. It was about time he was able to pin someone down ‘properly’.

* * *

Her POV

There it was. The retaliation. Bulma stayed quiet as the ruckus began from the disappointing food. Her stomach dropped when she heard the thud of one of the women go flying to the ground, a crack sounding as Nappa manhandled her arm. She glanced her direction. It was somewhat deformed, and evidence of green bruising was already peppering the black, thin arm. She looked away, unable to bare watching as the men began to throw more of a fit. She became more rigid each time Raditz bumped into her, each time she heard another plate crash to the ground, each time– She noticed Vegeta glance over at her. Wouldn’t he do anything? She though… She thought they were passed this. Why did they have to be horrible, everywhere they went? Her hatred surged. This was why she wanted them to die so badly before. Her lips pursed tightly. She felt the nausea from before coming back to her.

One girl ran out as quick as she could after being harassed, and Bulma barely saw her hurry by. Her hands pressed to her lap, keeping a tight grip on the skin of her thighs. She was going to puke if this kept up. She turned her head to stare hatefully at Raditz and Nappa as they grabbed the girl with the injured arm. Nappa unzipped his pants. The poor girl was shaking, and the idea of an insect eating her male suitor came to mind. She wished this is what would happen. But the girl looked too scared. Maybe too young, as well. Her big bug eyes and small stature was different compared to the others. Her skin reminded her of caterpillar’s, with gentle wisps of hair on her sides. She lacked breasts, and her two sets of arms all pressed back away from the man getting ready to violate her. Her curled, beautiful antennae were shaking and jittering abnormally. This wasn’t a case of Nappa meeting his demise. The girl was terrified. Begging them to let her go.

Bulma turned her head again to Vegeta. Rather than more violence, maybe she just needed Vegeta to get them to stop. Maybe he’d be kind. Maybe he’d just stop it. Maybe, if she was lucky. Her brows furrowed and she stared at him with an intensity that her expressions had been missing for a while– Though perhaps that had been for the better, until now, being met with all the things that had made her resent the Saiyans in the first place.

“Stop them. Make them stop. Right now.” A demand rather than a request. She wasn’t going to sit around and let them do this. She’d retaliate if they continued. Vegeta had to be able to tell that. She’d already forced one eyeball out of Nappa’s skull, why couldn’t she make them hurt even more, for everything they did? They deserved it. They were fucking monsters that did not deserve to live. They deserved to have every ounce of retaliation she could throw at them, and even more. She didn’t want to have to witness them raping another woman like they’d done to her. Even if this insect couldn’t physically do what they wanted, she was sure they’d find some kind of way. Even if it meant ripping a hole for them to use. They were that sick. She was well aware that they were that sick.

“Stop them or I’ll kill them both. I will. I’ll find a way.”

* * *

His POV

Vegeta held no sympathy nor care for the little female being torn apart by his monstrous men. Yet, he wasn’t exactly joining in, either. How would it play out now that they had the girl among their ranks? Lulling his jaw onto his rough knuckles, his gaze glanced between Raditz attempting to find a place to stick his cock, and the growing tension that was fuming its way into Bulma’s body. The clicks and squeals coming from the insectoid were horrific by now. Both Raditz and Nappa had their cocks in hand. It looked like it was going to be anal and oral rape. The scene before the prince was no different from a thousand others he’d witnessed since childhood. Many of which he’d partaken in. Raditz and Nappa were acting exactly as they were entitled to, in their minds at least.

It was Vegeta’s turn to wait for a sign of retaliation from Bulma. He knew it was bound to happen. Would she finally break? He’d been waiting for her to break for a while now. Perhaps she’d meet her limits in a wash of tears and begging, much as she had back on earth. It’d been a while since he’d found that spite in her eyes, yet when he glanced her way again, there it was staring him down. That beautiful blue spark that’d lured him to her in the first place. And she wasn’t just pissed, she was demanding -no, commanding like a queen. So, this is how she handled her new position. He couldn’t have been more pleased. Still, this wasn’t Earth and certain expectations had to be met.

“Is this sorry excuse of a whore the best you can give a prince?” Boomed the Saiyan’s voice. Vegeta stood abruptly, planting one firm foot on the table with a bang. “Bring in some damn whores, or I’ll rape your fucking corpses myself.” The menacing threat shook the entire tea house, as well as Nappa and Raditz, allowing the poor caterpillar to scamper half way over the table. Unfortunately, however, before she could make her escape Nappa once again grabbed her by the arm, just as an older female beetle wondered into the chaotic stall.

“Please, she’s my daughter!” Choked the woman. The tea house obviously belonged to her, and she’d come to not only beg for peace but for her daughter's life. “O-Our people are a peaceful, slave free community!” She stammered. “I’ll give you anything!”

That was not what Vegeta wanted to hear, and the disappointment was rampant over his face. His gaze drew back to Bulma. He’d insisted on whores as a means to respect her bold spirits, he hadn’t actually planned on acting on his threat. But now… Now he was between a rock and a hard place. Nappa and Raditz went back to their horny bantering, pulling the unwilling mother into their grasps as well. The woman screamed. With an arch in his brow, the next look on his face must have said it all. It was up to Bulma now. If she wanted to boast commands, she’d have to be able to handle them, too. Besides, maybe he wanted to see her try.

* * *

Her POV

She hoped to god that Vegeta would do something, but she honestly didn’t expect it. She stared him down, and to her surprise, he did act up. Just as another woman walked in, somewhat similar to the girl getting her silk clothes ripped off violently and handled like a piece of meat… He arose and stomped on the table. Screaming for a whore. Saying they’ll rape everyone otherwise. To think that for a split second, Bulma had hope. She covered her face with her hands, and the sounds of the woman screaming with the younger insect woman as Nappa grabbed onto both churned her stomach. Oh, god. God. Vegeta didn’t even say anything more. She felt him sit back down, and Raditz bumping into her again as he got more… Ready.

Her hands on her face tightened. Her fingers pressed into her skin, and he must have begun to shake. No, she couldn’t take this any longer. She wouldn’t fucking take this any longer. Just like before, she’d have to act again to put these assholes in their place for trying to attack innocents like they’d attacked her before. Why didn’t he learn last time? Didn’t that lack of an eye prove to him that he should be more careful? Without even thinking a moment longer, she suddenly jumped up. They probably didn’t even notice it until she’d all but jumped onto Nappa, one arm curling around his neck and the other jutting forward so she could shove her nails into the one eye socket that he had. She’d fucking blind him. She’d blind him if she had to! Then he couldn’t touch anyone!

Maybe one could make a comment for why she seemed to hate him in particular. She didn’t attack Raditz, after all. But Nappa always seemed to be the instigator. Raditz merely followed, and was nowhere as disgusting and hateful and violent, even though they were both Saiyans. Raditz would surely stop if Nappa did, but the other way around didn’t seem to be the case. So, despite the danger she put herself in, she went straight for Nappa, targeting him like he had many times before.

“STOP, YOU ASSHOLE!” It’s like she went into a frenzy, with how much she clawed at his face and screamed. “I HATE YOU! I HATE BOTH OF YOU! YOU’RE HORRIBLE! WHY CAN’T YOU EVER STOP DOING THESE THINGS?! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU, CAN’T YOU HAVE AN OUNCE OF EMPATHY?! STOP ATTACKING PEOPLE! STOP RAPING, STOP MURDERING! STOP! STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP! YOU SICK, SADISTIC BASTARD!”

* * *

His POV

Had this been the scene that’d happened time and time again, back before when he’d left the woman alone with his men? Vegeta did little more than shift in his spot and cross his arms over his chest when Bulma went flying onto Nappa’s back. He’d always stumbled into the aftermaths of whatever troubles the earthling had caused between his soldiers. This was his first account of witnessing a fight between them from the beginning, and it couldn’t have gone down more brilliantly. Why would he stop her? He certainly didn’t give enough of a shit to save Nappa’s first eye. If his men were weak enough to be overpowered by a ki-less, fight-less female, then what was the point of him keeping them around?

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? The reason he found the catastrophic show so informative. She was actually over powering them. Her threats hadn’t been empty, the bitch was actually pulling it off. With muscles stiff and eyes narrowed, he couldn’t have been watching any closer if he tried. Indeed, Nappa had been taken by complete surprise. His dick was waving around for all to see and his mouth was roaring wide open. However, his eyes were snapped shut so tightly that it’d have been a miracle for Bulma to do little more than scratch his face up. The bald brute had gained a new awareness of his optics since last time…. Still, that didn’t stop the mass of muscle from trying to pull the woman off of him.

“Get off of me you damn dirty wench!” Nappa groaned, grabbing for the hands at his face. Oh no, she wasn’t taking his other eye! He managed to catch one of the girl’s wrists, but even in his dyer situation, the bald soldier knew better than to toss the earthling around too much with his leader surely staring him down across the table. It must have been a sight, a humiliating one, and Nappa knew it. His teeth grit and his free fist started swinging out of pure frustration, which in turn socked Raditz right in the mouth…

“Watch it, old man!” Raditz snapped between his teeth. The long-haired male had been trying to take advantage of Nappa’s situation. He knew better than to get involved when Bulma was in the mix… He’d learned that lesson, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck a different warm body in the meantime. He’d just been starting to slide his length into the little insectioid’s crying mouth when Nappa slugged him. The frantic mother took her opportunity to snatch her daughter and scamper over the table. God damn it, now Raditz was equally pissed. It wasn’t just Bulma’s fault now, it was Nappa’s too! Reeling his fist back, Raditz hit Nappa’s jaw line with a pow! Finally managing to rid himself of the woman, Nappa retaliated and the two men went rolling across the tea house floor in a brawl, leaving Bulma and the shaken pair of beetles. And there at the end of the messy table was Vegeta staring down the entire display.

* * *

Her POV

He closed his eyes before she could manage to gouge out another eye, but it did all she wanted it to. He stopped what he was doing to try and throw her off of him, but clearly didn’t put all his energy into it thanks to Vegeta’s presence. She fought to dig open his eyelid, clinging onto him as tight as she could so she wouldn’t fly off. He started throwing punches, but not in an attempt to hit her– rather, his fist landed on Raditz, and she indirectly managed to save the smaller insect girl from him. She barely paid much attention to it through her anger, instead keeping her focus on Nappa. But then Raditz’s own fist collided with Nappa’s jaw, and finally the force sent her tumbling down to the floor as the gorillas began to all-out fight.

Maybe normally this would be appeasing. She wouldn’t care anymore. But this time, something stirred in her. She was too angry. After all this time, they hadn’t learned their lesson. They were still such pieces of shit, thinking they had the right to any woman they stumbled across. Vegeta was no help either. That knowledge stuck well with her and only succeeded in pissing her off more. She pulled herself up to her feet and stared at the two duking it out, trembling somewhat from her anger. This was good, actually; they were busy. They weren’t watching her. Her eyes traveled around the room for something sharp. The most there was were the forks they were given with their meal. Gn… Looked like it’d have to do. She grabbed one and waited for her opportunity. Waited for Nappa to roll over on top of Raditz, pinning him for a while as he punched.

That’s when Bulma jumped into action again. She leapt on top of him before she could lose nerve, and plunged the fork right into the skin of his shoulder blade. Because all three of the idiots were wearing human clothes, she didn’t have to worry about armor; it sunk right in. She pulled it out violently and raised it up past her head again and did the same. Over and over, as many times as she could manage before Nappa could fight back. She didn’t need to go for his eyes to wound him! Maybe he’d fucking learn this time; he wasn’t entitled to do whatever he pleased! Violence was clearly the only way to talk to Saiyans and get a point across, so she’d do it happily. Nevermind the fact she was clearly becoming a Saiyan by herself with everything she was doing; nevermind the fact that she was becoming no better than them with every bit of violence she absorbed. She wasn’t the person she used to be, but hell, if that meant getting it through their thick heads that they wouldn’t do to another girl what they did to her, then she’d be happy to become as violent and bloodthirsty as any Saiyan.

* * *

His POV

If any creature had ever questioned the level of civility in Saiyans, it was examples like this that displayed it loud and clear. There was none, at least none that was anything more than primitive. Perhaps once upon a time when they actually belonged to a civilization, but it seemed the further that the three block heads grew from their roots the more brutal and barbaric they truly became. This time was no different. Both Nappa and Raditz went toppling out of the tea-house stall. The delicate walls fell over and beautiful potted plants crashed into the walk ways. A few ki blasts sizzled their way through the bark of the massive tree. For the most part Nappa had the upper hand. Sure, Raditz got in a few good hits, but when was Nappa ever not the bully in a situation? This time he was out to teach the runt of their litter a lesson.

“God damn it Nappa, get the hell off of me!” croaked Raditz. Nappa had the other man pinned down by neck, both of his grubby hands choking the wind out of Raditz. Vegeta did little more than onlook as his bigger soldier attempted to black-out the lowest of the three. And it looked like he was about to pass out too, that is until Nappa let out a horrible groan that filled the hollow tree. It surprised not only Nappa, but Vegeta as well when Bulma threw herself onto the giant’s back. The prince may have even had the urge to jump into action, a little. One thing was for sure, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the display he was witnessing.

Nappa’s skin may have been tough, but eventually blood began to squirt out of the hole in his shoulder. Raditz wheezed in a desperate breath of air and rolled to the side as soon as Nappa stood up in a worthless attempt of getting the woman off of his back. Nappa cursed and tried to brush her off, but it was obvious to all that he wasn’t giving her even a fraction of his strength. This caught Vegeta’s attention more than anything. What Bulma lacked in strength, she had in strategy. The prince was known for his tactic and he loved to witness it in the girl before him. Did she even know she was using her immunity against the big thug? Or was she really that out for blood? The wrath in her violence reminded him of a time when she’d done the same to him, after demolishing a drug nest. He’d seen her kill then, too. She really was becoming one of them…

“That’s enough,” Vegeta’s thunderous tone rattled through the tree. He’d caught Nappa’s hand just before it’d come a little too closer for his liking to Bulma’s face. He’d seen enough. If Nappa had managed to hit the girl the prince would have done more than halt the fight, he would have ended it. His dark gaze fell to Bulma next. The tension in his brow stared firm. Had she had enough? Was she happy now that they’d ended up making a mess and missing a meal rather than leaving his men to stroke their egos? Vegeta knew the earthling wasn’t fond of rape or violence, but what else had she expected? His gaze questioned her.

* * *

Her POV

Stab. Stab. Stab. It was almost satisfying, to see blood begin to ooze out of his wounds. She only stabbed harder, unsure of what she was truly attempting at this point. He probably wouldn’t die from this. From what she’d seen of Saiyans, this likely wouldn’t do much more than give him a sore shoulder for a week. But it felt right, somehow. Right to keep causing him pain, to the point where he forgot all about Raditz to stand up, leaving her dangling on his back with one arm wrapped around his neck, to the point where he kept trying to brush her off like some kind of wasp. Then again, that’s really what she was at the moment. Just a little wasp. Stabbing him uselessly, to the point where her arm began to tire, but only stopping once Vegeta’s booming voice shook her and caused her to turn her attention to him.

She didn’t say anything. He didn’t say anything. But he snapped her back to reality, somehow. In all honesty, she hadn’t even seen how close Nappa’s hand had come to her face, and didn’t really process it until she saw Vegeta holding it. She blinked a couple times at Vegeta, before turning her head away. That was it. She let go, though she kept the fork still embedded in Nappa’s arm. She turned her head back, only to survey the damage. All the furniture knocked down and broken–made worse by the fact it was carved from the tree itself–and Raditz and Nappa both bleeding, and… Well. At least the girls were unscathed. That didn’t stop Bulma from seething from the entire incident. As far as she could tell, the two of them got off easy. She should seriously maim them every time they hurt an innocent.

She pursed her lips for a moment, before grabbing Nappa’s oversized arm and pulling on him to get his attention. No attention toward his dumb wound, or to Raditz, or his master, or any poor woman. No, she wanted his attention completely on him. She pointed at his face, despite his stature in comparison to her own, and her eyes narrowed. Perhaps Raditz would view the warning as something he should take into consideration as well. If not– Well, he was easier to hurt. And more prone to agreeableness. He wasn’t as stubborn as this big buffoon.

“Listen. If you ever touch a girl without her permission again, if you ever lay a hand on a little kid, if you ever do anything to anyone who’s an innocent person, you’re going to regret it. I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll gouge out your other eye. Maybe I’ll slit your throat. Maybe I’ll hack off a limb when you’re not looking, or puncture your spinal cord to render you useless. But something bad will happen. Even if I’m not there, I’ll know. I’ll find out. Don’t you dare ever touch anyone again, unless they touch you first. And if you think that for some reason you don’t have to listen to me, think again. You’ll regret it. So, choose your actions wisely next time.” She glared at him for a moment longer, only a moment, before turning on her heel and leaving. Maneuvering straight out of the tree teahouse, as if she had somewhere to go. Of course she didn’t, but she couldn’t stand to be around these idiots any longer. Not if she may witness them completely ignoring her words. No, she’d rather go off and pout for a while, or simply try to take in the beautiful sights and enjoy herself in ways she simply couldn’t around them.

* * *

His POV

Such vicious words for such a tiny, blue hornet. Was Vegeta about to stop her? Of course he wasn’t. If anything, he was enjoying her assertion and sick descriptions of violence. The more venom that poured out of Bulma’s mouth, the more he tuned into the determination behind her words. She’d more than proved that she wasn’t one for spitting empty threats, the fork lodged in Nappa’s shoulder was proof of that. He’d wanted to see if she could back up her demands, and she’d passed with flying colors. In fact, Bulma never stepped out of line as far as the prince was concerned, and that fact somewhat stirred his two soldier's nervous attention. It was finally obvious to the two that she’d moved up in their ranks. They may actually have to heed her words, and that wasn’t about to set well with the two of them.

Nappa looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and then gotten angry about it… Vegeta may have stopped him, but it didn’t mask the anger he felt towards the girl’s orders. As if! As if he’d care who he fucked or where! He was just about to back talk the female when Vegeta’s dark voice rolled out with laughter. It was the laughter of a demon that took delight in the torment of others; Nappa to be precise. It was then that Nappa knew better then to back sass the woman that’d just lost him face and a female. Plucking the fork from his wound, Nappa grumbled under his breath. The three of them watched the girl disappear into the disaster zone just as food finally arrived. It looked like they’d be eating without her. Nappa and Raditz couldn’t have been more glad about that.

“Go on Nappa, touch a female, I want to see if she’ll actually know,” Vegeta mocked further in his most sarcastic tone yet. Nappa did little more than watch the hostess file in this time with a very sour attitude. Even Vegeta didn’t seem to give a damn about Bulma’s leave; sitting himself back down at the head of the table as the food finally began to funnel in. Though, his sly gaze traced her footsteps. She’d done well. There hadn’t been a moment of hesitation in her when taking on the big man. That was far better than watching her break down into mindless sobs, maybe she would survive after all.

The food disappeared just as fast as it was set before the three. Finally, the tea house seemed to have calmed down, more or less. This time the trio of bastards were treated with as many calories as their stomachs could consume. True, the majority of it was fruits and grains. Flesh seemed to be a rarity on this planet, but at least the items they were given this time were hardy and fully of nutrition. Giant bulbs of pink and purple rolled across the table. Some tasted of red meat, others were starchy and filling. After his third helping, Vegeta’s mind wondered back to the missing female. If she didn’t get food that was her own damn problem. Still, he had grown a habit of tracking her meals. Where the fuck was she?

* * *

Her POV

Despite her vague worry that he’d do something just to spite her with her now missing, and the fact her stomach was grumbling like hell, she pressed forward. She didn’t want to be anywhere near there, not even to eat, with her appetite so wiped from the events that had played out. It made her nauseous just thinking about what they tried to do. Her nose wrinkled as she walked down the colorful stone sidewalk, ignoring all the stares she was getting. She knew why she stuck out. Other than being a weird species to see on this planet apparently, her hands were now covered in Nappa’s blood. After walking some distance that got her back to the fountain she recalled waking up at, she stopped and looked down at herself. Her clothes were ruined with splatters of blood, but the majority of it stuck to her hands, sticky and dark.

She didn’t regret it. Hell, she only wished she could have done more. This wouldn’t stop him, of course it wouldn’t. It took him being beaten almost to death numerous times by Vegeta to stop trying to touch her. A fork multiple times to his shoulder wouldn’t stop him from trying to touch other women. But just as she was in the middle of wondering what else she could do about it, she felt her upper arms grabbed by a few pairs of insect limbs, furry and suctioned to stick to her skin, that forced her hands behind her back.

“H… Hey! What the–” she snapped her head back to see who her captor was, and it was actually a few ant-like insects, with twitching antennae and terrifying-looking pincher mouths, in what looked to be some kind of uniform. Their grip on her tightened, and they made noises that she assumed was supposed to be some kind of language on this planet, though she couldn’t understand it. It was just clicks and twitches. An insect language, she guessed. Maybe their mouths didn’t allow them to speak the universal language? Either way, she was being dragged off somewhere. What, was she getting arrested or something? Considering how every insect had stopped to watch… Maybe. Damn, where were those idiots when you needed them? She’d kill all of them if they were too busy raping more women to think about her whereabouts. She tried to struggle, but their grasps proved powerful. How come everything in the universe was so goddamn strong?!

“Let me go! Hey, just– Just let me go, alright?!” But they weren’t. And they dragged her all the way to some other building, one that looks like it was pieced together with dirt and the occasional leaf, and forced her inside. This is when it truly occurred to her that she was going to some kind of insect jail. there were cells, even. Boxes of wood encased in the dirt building, with little wooden bars to show off the various prisoners. They were lined across the wall, and she was walked forward until they came to a box with only one other insect in it, something that looked feminine considering its pink colors and pretty wings. The ant that was not holding her opened the box up, and she was shoved inside. The box was locked, and that was it. They walked off like it was nothing, and she was left only a foot or two away from her cellmate, that seemed more interested in picking at the wooden ground of the box.

…How long was she going to be in here exactly, before they went looking for her? Her stomach growled, and it occurred to her that perhaps Vegeta would figure she decided to go home. Oh, god, she hoped not. Goddamn, she didn’t want to rot in here! She gulped, just thinking about it. She didn’t know how the prison system worked here. What if she was in this little box until she withered and died? How long did these insects even live? Oh, god. This could be some real trouble she was in. And not something she could exactly fight her way out of like she’d done in numerous occasions before.

* * *

His POV

What fun was a dinner without a little blood shed? The sight of red splatters across the table didn’t faze the three brutes as they finished off their meals. The only odd thing about it was that it had been from Bulma’s actions and not from one of their own. How far had she integrated herself into their little society? All three of the Saiyans were mulling over the idea to themselves, up until Vegeta had finally finished his last mouthful of food. That’s when their leader rose from his seat and disappeared without so much as a murmur or a thought towards either of his men. Vegeta was going to find the girl, they all knew it.

There were law-enforcers stationed just beyond the massive tree’s roots; it was one of the first things Vegeta noticed. His gaze shifted warily, but acted as if didn’t give a care It wasn’t unusual for security to be summoned after one of their brawls, so the prince brushed it off and continued his hunt, much as he had on world after world before. Honestly, chasing Bulma down whenever they docked seemed to be becoming the norm. Her scent filtered through the succulent rainbows of wildflowers like a vivid string of yarn. It was perfumed with a faint, familiar scent; the one that so often drove him to his edge. The blossoms didn’t do her aroma justice, but that was something he’d never admit to anyone other than himself. His stern pace quickened through the colorful crowds, the trail leading him clear across the bubble-like conservatory, but would he find what he was looking for…

Meanwhile, there was ruckus outside of the little wooden cell that Bulma was being held in. The prison door rattled and jarred, and then a horrible beast revealed itself on the other side. It was an ugly, slimy, giant thing with horrible bulging eyes. Something of a fish crossed with a fat salamander. It didn’t look of this world, and worse, it was wearing a uniform. A different uniform from before. In its hand was a long pole with a loop on the end, much like a contraption to catch a stray dog. And of course, it went for Bulma, dragging her down the dirt corridor and towards the back of an open transport. The many cells inside were sophisticated and full of various life forms. This new prison was much different from the planets inferior jail, and it was surely only going to get worse.

* * *

Her POV

Hours passed slowly and painfully. She didn’t have a lot of room to move around, which made the hours move all the more slowly. She tried to talk to her cellmate, but it was for naught– they just stared at her and turned away, mumbling under their breath something that was clearly the universal language. She scowled and continued to just sit there, wondering when the hell Vegeta would come and find her. He WAS looking for her, right? He had to be. He had to realize there was no way she’d leave this planet considering the pods were so far away. He must have realized something had happened to her. But still, it seemed like forever, and he wasn’t coming. She could see through the wooden bars. Just insects, insects, and more insects– until finally someone that wasn’t an insect came through the doors. Not anyone she knew, certainly not Vegeta. No. This was someone slimy, somewhat slug-like. Like a fish and a lizard combined. They didn’t look to be from this planet, and they spoke to the ant guards in the universal language. It was interesting to watch them, and try to decipher where she thought she’d seen those uniforms they were wearing before, but it became far less interesting and far more alarming when they began pointing toward her cell. She looked cautiously toward her cellmate, but the way they were staring at her in return… They were talking about her, weren’t they?

The slug-like being obtained keys from the ants and came closer, unlocking her cell door. They only stared cruelly at her for a split second before a control rod’s noose was looped around her neck and she was forced out of the cage, sputtering and coughing as her airflow was restricted. She was given a little moment of relief when she grabbed the noose and yanked it to allow for some give, but in a large gesture the officer jerked her one way, and then brutally threw her to the floor by the rod. She landed on her front, knocking the air out of her before she even had time to collect it back into her lungs following the restriction of air the rod had caused. Worse yet, the slimeball then pressed its weight on top of her as it put her back in handcuffs. These handcuffs, however, were different. Metal, and they had a rod linking them to a collar. The collar was clicked around her neck, and she was forced back up, the officer now holding onto the rod behind her back. She wheezed. Great, what was happening to her now? Where was Vegeta?! She was hungry, goddamn it! Where was he?! He was supposed to protect her!

Not that the officer seemed to care about her status. They pushed her out of the ant prison, and there she found a giant ship that she was forced into without another word. More aliens of all types were inside, all wearing the same uniform. …She was in some really, really massive trouble, wasn’t she? She didn’t even dare speak. Who the hell knew what would happen to her then? She’d seen enough movies to know what happened when you annoyed a prison guard. Instead, she looked over her shoulder, brows furrowing, trying to take a last glimpse of the insect planet and hoping she’d see Vegeta. Ohh, no. This really wasn’t good.

* * *

His POV

Bulma was no longer under planetary jurisdiction, but something more massive, something on a galactic scale. The creature holding the other end of her rod-like leash wasn’t being gentle about where he was forcing her, either. The many guards they passed didn’t give her a second look, and that included when one particularly enormous officer bumped right into her in passing. If the girl stumbled, if she dared to look in the officer's direction, she was met with a stern slap or a shove to keep moving. They didn’t care if the collar around her neck dug into her skin, or if she felt her bones cracking under the force of their hand. Here, she wasn’t a slave, she wasn’t even property. Worse, she was a convict.

The first room on the officers check list was the lineup and booking station. Magnetic doors swooshed open to reveal the technologically advanced stations glory in full. The only real light in the towering hall came from the floor below their feet. Translucent screens of information drifted around aimlessly, moving to and fro through the air as the officer in charge of the criminal data base flicked through them as he worked. But before Bulma could complain, the slug like officer grabbed a fist full of her blue hair and shoved her behind a barrier that sat in the mist of the room. The box shaped force field was for holding even the worst of criminals while …being scanned.

The two officers at the control panel may not have been speaking in any language that the Saiyans had run across yet, but it was obvious what the two thought of their newest in-mate by the grimy way they were watching her. They may have been in uniforms of white and violet, but that didn’t mean an officer couldn’t have a little fun with a new prisoner, especially such a pretty one. But during their sure-to-be sexual slurs, the drifting screens flickered out and a new data base was opened. They’d began to document her. But what would they document her as? The scanning began and information began to flicker to life around the room.

Bulma fell under the category of ‘primate’ and there weren’t many of them. A few profiles filtered past her clear cell. One looked like a hairless chimp with long ears, another appeared to be a green haired caveman. And then something a little more familiar floated past. It was a drunken Nappa with a little crop of hair on his balding head. Next, a young Raditz that didn’t look at all pleased to be there. And lastly, a teenage prince Vegeta. His scowl in the photo was worse than ever; amplified a hundred-fold by his adolescent angst. A thicket of black bangs washed over his forehead and blackened eye, and he was flipping off the scanner…

Bulma’s picture dinged to life on the main screen, and a little draw popped out of the control panel revealing a fresh and new uniform, just for her. All eyes then turned to her as the scanner’s walls came down. This must have been what they were talking about, their new ‘fun’. The officers were closing in, planning on stripping her bare themselves in order to ‘fit’ her into her new colors.

* * *

Her POV

They dragged her to a room where a light went off and scanned her body. She was no longer being grabbed and forced around, so despite how uncomfortable she felt from the way she was restrained, she could at least rest for a moment. Her eyes turned up as something lit; a screen with mug shots. It switched to the primate section, and Bulma got to witness something interesting. The mugshots of multiple Saiyans she knew. Nappa had hair at one point, apparently. And was much older than Raditz and Vegeta, if she was going to assume these were all taken at about the same time. Her brows furrowed. Vegeta used to look like that, really? She could ignore the black eye, but otherwise– Eugh, of course he looked like that as a kid. It was the same angsty phase so many kids went through. The bangs, that brooding look– Bulma rolled her eyes.

Of course, the moment was short lived, before the patrolmen came up from behind her and began stripping off her clothes with no regard for her. Bulma yelled out at first and fought as soon as they unlocked her restraints to get her hands over her head to pull her shirt off, but ultimately, they overpowered her. She was lucky there was no groping or otherwise assault. They simply stripped her, and rather than put her into her uniform right away, one of them grabbed something that looked to be a hose, flipped a switch, and– She got bombarded with a strong current of water, smacking her hard enough that it nearly knocked the wind out of her and made her stumble back. One of them forced her to turn around to get all sides, and Bulma could feel herself shiver as she was overcome with the cold water. Yet only a moment later, the hose turned off and the two guards forced her into a bright orange uniform, one that felt heavy and had the texture of a potato sack.

She was forced back into the contraption that they restrained her with before, and though she was still sopping wet and cold, soaked to the bone, they grabbed onto the rod that connected her collar to her handcuffs and again forced her off. Who knew when she’d get her clothes back, if she ever did? And her makeup was now ruined! But she didn’t dare say anything. She kept her mouth shut, her brows furrowing. And that did treat her well; she got to overhear the two guards as they talked– About the three Saiyans. They would have picked them up, apparently, but they didn’t have the means to try and control one adult Saiyan, let alone three of them. Backup would be coming for those three. So, as far as Bulma could tell, it was just a waiting game. She just had to wait to meet up with those three idiots again so they could get out of prison. If they weren’t too stupid to abandon her. She had to hope to god they didn’t assume she had enough and tried to escape again.

She was brought to a cell already filled with scary-looking women, clearly over capacity, and as soon as she was shoved inside, her restraints were taken off. No one looked like they particularly cared about her, so Bulma was put at least somewhat at ease as she leaned against the cell doors. She sighed, glancing outward. Hopefully it wouldn’t take TOO long before she ran into those idiots again. She didn’t go back into space just for this to happen to her.

* * *

His POV

There was no need to go looking for Bulma’s captors, they’d come seeking out the prince instead. The local law enforcement was stationed around every corner that he turned. He could hear their staticky murmurs through their scouters - they were keeping tabs on him as he moved through the streets… On top of that, the closer he got to the cities penitentiary sector, the stronger her scent became. He’d be in and out before the hour. As long as she hadn’t gotten herself mixed up with a crooked cop, busting her out of jail would be a breeze.

However, the stockades were a dead end. While there was no sign of Bulma, none other than her fading scent, there was welcoming comity just waiting for the prince in her place. And this time it wasn’t the locals, it was the damn galactic police themselves. Those god-awful self-righteous pricks that thought they dictated the universe. As if they could stop him, as if they could keep him from doing whatever he desired. He was classified as a prince, as galactic hierarchy, but it was his strength that’d kept them at bay. They were a joke in his eyes, and on some level, he knew they knew it too. Why else wouldn’t they have come after him after all these years?

After a hate-filled stare-down, the police opened fire. Energy bolts ricocheted off of his bare skin. He didn’t have time for this. There was a good chance Bulma had gotten herself bum-rushed and shoved aboard a slavers ship by now. The prince had better things to do than swat these vermin away like flies. But with as many as he turned to ash, they just kept coming. It looked like they’d been ready for him. How had they been so ready for him? This was feeling more and more like a set up. One after the next, Vegeta snapped the officer's spines like twigs. At one point, he’d cracked a male right over his knee, forcing the policeman’s rib-cage to come popping out of his abdomen. Snapping off one of the protruding ribs, he speared his next victim right through the eye. A signature move he’d learned from a certain blue-eyed female.

And then it hit him. That’s how the galactic authorities had gotten the jump on him. That’s why Bulma was missing throughout the prison cells. They’d taken her, they had to have taken her. Only she could have gotten herself into a level of shit this deep. It was easier to find an anonymous enemy through the black-market than it’d ever be tracking down a specific prisoner in one of the thousands of space stations that the federation kept under lock and key. There was only one thing left to do. He had to get himself arrested.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uh, I forgot if I said chapters would get posted Saturdays or Sundays.  
> Let's just... Let's just go with 'the weekend.'
> 
>   
> 


	3. Something Alien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma has quite a time in prison.
> 
>   
> 

**Her POV**

There wasn’t much room in the cell, with how overcrowded it was. Thankfully, most were too tired to bother talking. It was relatively quiet, and Bulma slid down the cell door. On the bright side, she was relatively safe here. The cellmates she had all seemed… Female. She doubted she’d be attacked like she had so many times today. And there were so many people that it warmed the cell and made her not feel quite so freezing, even with the cold water still sliding down her skin, her wet hair sticking to her scalp. …How long would she be here until Vegeta found her? She kept looking toward the door as the hours passed, hoping she’d see the grumpy face she loved to hate. But no one came. Her stomach gurgled. She saw a couple prisoners glance in her direction. She shifted uncomfortably, turning away from them. Damn, she should have just stayed on Earth. She did this to herself. She did this to herself…

It felt like forever passed, but then again, she’d been thinking that since she was first arrested. But then the door rolled open, and Bulma jerked off of it to look up at the galactic patrolman who had opened it. He spoke some language she was familiar with, something she’d picked up on from being around space so much. Dinner time. She just about jumped up to her feet, though she steadied herself when the patrolman gave her an irritated look at her excitement. It isn’t as if she could help it; she was starving. She glanced away, and was quickly and forcefully grabbed by the wrists and given a pair of handcuffs again before being shoved down a hallway. She walked along until she met with another guard, who pointed her to an area that was caged off, and guarded by a few more guards. Once she’d gotten there, they took her handcuffs off and shoved her inside. It was an eating area, though grimy and cold. Tables and chairs, and a sectioned off area where they could get their food.

She walked to the area to get her food and picked up a tray, walking along as slop was dropped into it by other prisoners manning the little stand. And as soon as her tray was filled up with food, most of it looking somewhat edible, she sat down at the table and began to eat. Left alone, thankfully, other than some glances and nudges pointing her out. It seemed the prisoners wanted to be left alone the same amount she did. Her brows furrowed, chewing on her half-edible, fairly bland food. Vegeta… That idiot, when was he going to come get her? Was she really going to be stuck like this forever? …She’d give it a few days, she supposed. And if he still wasn’t there, she was better off killing herself or something. Finding a way to die, so she could get to Otherworld and get to King Kai. How hard could that be? Hn, so that was the plan. There was no way she was spending more time than necessarily in this stinky, run-down prison. She didn’t like the way the male guards kept looking at her.

* * *

What respectable (or corrupted) officer of the galactic forces wouldn’t jump at the change to bring in one of the biggest names on the interstellar wanted list? There was sure to be a promotion for whomever could lay claim that capture. However, Vegeta wasn’t about to make it easy for him. Well, not easy to the policemen that went charging into his direction. It was simple to shake them off of his thick arms or send them flying over buildings. Vegeta had to keep in mind that he wanted to be caught. That it was a means to getting what he wanted. Scaring the shit out of a hoard of officers whenever he yelled in their direction, or stepped towards their masses, was more fun and games then a fight to him.

Still, admitting any kind of defeat, even a fake one, wasn’t painless for the Prince of all Saiyans. He swallowed down the need to snap his cuffs the moment a pair were grappled onto his bare wrists. The men around him watched on much like deer caught in the headlights. Were the cuffs strong enough, would it hold him? A swat team of shields and a barrage of weaponry were aimed his way. There was a heavy tension in the air. Vegeta played along and powered up, acting as if he trying to burst the cuffs with the powerful glow of his ki. But instead of a light show, a gauge on the cuffs merely began to dial up. Vegeta knew he hadn’t even begun to try and the ki gauge appeared nearly at capacity. Powering back down, he appeared defeated.

One of the police were brave enough to loop a rod around his muscular neck and lead him into an awaiting transport. A transport meant just for him. Down into the belly of the metal haul he was led. Past vaulted door after door, and even an electrical barrier or two. This was a high security transport. They really had been ready for him. How shattering would it be when he finally decided to prove them all wrong? Thoughts like that kept the brute from lashing out and ruining his plans. Before he could make his move, he had to wait until they were space bound. The prince needed a destination. Screw his men back on the peaceful planet, Vegeta had a goal to attain. One that was best done alone.

But then he was shown the cell that awaited him, and for a fraction of time Vegeta wondered if it could actually prove to be troublesome. The cell was round, bright, and surrounded by an anti-gravity barrier. The space around it sparked whenever touch - it must have had an electrical barrier, too. They left him there, suspended with his hands in that uncomfortable pair of cuffs, to stay in solitary confinement. One after the next, the massive vault doors sealed shut and the transport began to drift away into the blackness of space. Now, he waited.

* * *

Again, no one was bothering her. She was somewhat thankful for that, though as she continued to eat her food, she felt a growing sense of despair. How would Vegeta end up finding her? What if he thought that she just went back to Earth, and forgot about her? Her stomach twisted at the thought. Though, why would she be horrified about it? She had hated him for so long. She’d wanted to be free. But– But she wasn’t free. Not like this. Her brows knit. She stared down at her food. How many times had she eaten food like this between moments of being tortured by those men? And she wanted to go back to them. Not necessarily to Raditz and Nappa; but no, to Vegeta. Who she’d begun to give herself to willingly. What was their relationship, even? He cared for her, but got irritated when she showed any kind of affection when others were around. He’d done kind things for her, but ultimately, was he not just the same person he always was…? And now she may never see him again.

She ran her fingers through her still-drying hair, taking a slower, more thoughtful bite of whatever slop she’d been given. She saw some guards beyond the bars taking hurriedly to each other after hearing a message over their walkies. Whatever. She looked away again, and saw some alien staring straight at her. She’d been lucky so far; perhaps they’d be happy just talking about her rather than to her. She wrinkled her nose in their direction and continued to eat, slower than before. Despite her hunger, she didn’t have an appetite. A lump was stuck in her throat. What was her problem? Something was unnerving her, other than the obvious. Something was reminding her of what she’d gone through, though she wasn’t necessarily sure what. She was left alone, and yet her hands were shaking slightly, and she had to focus to keep herself sane.

She couldn’t help but recall having her face shoved into the grass as Vegeta forced himself on her. The aching painful feeling of her hand after he’d nearly crushed it. How humiliating it felt. How painful it felt. How stupid was it that, no matter how much pain they’d forced her to go through, she was always put through something worse. And she still crawled back. And she still missed them. Was there something wrong with her? Her stomach was twisting. She stopped eating; she put her utensil to the side, finding it too hard to continue with her stomach feeling so queasy. Why did it feel like she wanted to cry so badly? She was such an idiot. Such an idiot…

She felt someone brush against her arm. She glanced over to see some ugly reptilian alien staring at her, sitting beside her. She didn’t care. Her head turned away, though not quite far enough that she didn’t see her pushing her food away from Bulma, and in front of her, instead. She began to eat Bulma’s food, and all Bulma could do was sigh. Why would she care? She wasn’t going to eat it. Even if her stomach was begging to be filled. She couldn’t find the appetite, no matter how hard she tried. …Maybe the alien was talking. She heard buzzing in her ear, but that’s all it sounded like to her. She couldn’t make out real words, foreign or not. God, she felt sick. If her stomach wasn’t so starved for food, perhaps she would have just thrown it all up.

* * *

He was given plenty of time to think while hanging weightlessly in that prison cell. Thoughts plagued the prince, and despite his disgruntled attitude towards his own inner workings, he slowly gave way into the dark reaches of his mind. The officers that’d brought him on board the transport were surely in the cockpit, celebrating. Drinking their last drinks before he ripped them apart - in due time. Surely, his mug was across the galaxy by now, plastered across every screen. Word of his capture wouldn’t stay silent, he knew that. The capture of a wanted aristocrat was always big news, if not just juicy gossip for the masses.

There was a good chance his men had deserted him, too. Neither Nappa nor Raditz would sway from their Saiyan law. It was one thing when he was a young prince getting himself into trouble, but a full-grown royal that could get himself caught was no one to follow. They’d probably already left for their next mission, if not busy taking wagers on the style of his own execution. He didn’t give a shit, it was expected. Vegeta had known what he was getting himself into from the moment he allowed that pair of cuffs to fit around his wrists. He’d acted without hesitation; putting his prestige on the line. And for what, for some damn female? One that was stupid enough to get herself in trouble with the galactic police! Days before she’d resurrected her planet, he wouldn’t have considered the option. His pride shuttered at the thought. Why really, was he going this far? What did he gain from it?

His eyelids winced shut, attempting to shut-up his ever-persistent inner nagging. But the question remained, what the fuck was he doing? This wasn’t the first time he’d traveled across the galaxy in pursuit of her, but this was the first time he wasn’t doing it for himself. Something about that disturbed him, causing the shackles around his arms to quake. He wasn’t collecting his possession, the girl didn’t belong to him, she was free. She was as good as one of them, but if she was one of his comrades then he should have left her to rot in jail. What was their relationship, even?

She’d called herself his woman once, but he knew she didn’t mean it. Not by means of her loyalty (not that he was looking for it). She’d traded a bit of herself for his protection, and he’d willingly complied. He wasn’t doing it for status, to punish a slave, or for the sake of his pride. If anything, his pride was against him; this was asking a lot of him. Yet, he knew what would befall her in incarceration. He knew what she wanted - to be free. Well, it was time to keep up his end of the bargain. It was time to break out of his prison, destroy the passengers, and commandeer his new ship.

* * *

Her head was beginning to throb. She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes, letting out a sigh. She felt sick. So sick. Not necessarily nauseous; just a general feeling of unwellness that seemed to come with extreme emotion. Though perhaps nausea as well. It wasn’t until the noise around her became too loud–people speaking over each other, alarms, prison guards yelling at each other, and the sound of the cages around them shuttering for extra protection–did she finally snap out of it. Her brows furrowed as she looked around. What was even going on? Lockdown, that’s what they were saying. She wasn’t quite sure why. But they were to stay in place; they wouldn’t be going back to the cells any time soon. The prisoners seemed happy about that, though it wasn’t as if Bulma actually cared either way. Rather, she just listened.

Eventually, things went quiet. She could hear guards talking over their walkies. There was a breach in some high-security unit. The guards looked pretty mortified, though at this point in Bulma’s life, she wasn’t truly scared of anything anymore. How bad could it be? They’d get it under control. If they didn’t, then she supposed it’d be alright. She’d get wished back to life somehow. She resigned to whatever fate awaited her, even if, deep in her mind, she wished that it was a certain asshole with spiked hair.

Screams. Screams could be heard through the walkie, making the relative quiet go to dead silence. The prisoners looked at each other nervously. Despite Bulma’s lack of general fear at the situation, she chewed the inside of her mouth at the prospect of dying such a terrible, violent death. …It couldn’t be anyone any worse than Vegeta originally was, right? He probably just wanted to escape. No reason for them to kill prisoners. Perhaps she could use it to her advantage; either a prison riot would break out, or maybe the prisoner would just kill enough of the guards to let everyone loose. She’d be able to escape, and eventually meet up with the Saiyans again. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

* * *

It hadn’t been difficult to seize ownership of prison transport. If anything, it had been his cell itself that had taken the most of his concentration. The electric field around his orb-like locker had been there for one purpose only - to absorb any ki that the prisoner tried to give off and expel it safely into space. Vegeta had to scale this just right. If he released too much power, there was a good chance he’d over load the system and blow a hole in the ship, leaving him to drift through the vacuum of space while he suffocated and burned up from radiation exposure. If he released too little, he’d never get out, leaving him truly incarcerated.

Static sparked through the bright detention center. Vegeta could feel the licks of ki that were rising from of his bare skin being tugged away and absorbed by the field around him. Just a little more aaaaand the cuffs were the first thing to burst open, but not without releasing a wail of sirens. Alert! Alert! There had been a breach in the high security-unit! Guards ran frantically, dropping their drinks and grabbing for their guns. Door after door slammed shut, sealing the floors above from the lower levels. The transport was on an official lockdown, but would that be enough to hold their prisoner?

A bright light was radiating from inside Vegeta’s circular cell, charging up the electrical field and rendering the security cameras useless. A gang of officers that’d circled the outside doors of his cell stood ready and waiting; guns pointed, shields in place. Then, a brilliant gleam of ki burst out the tiny windows of the massive steel doors, causing the entire ship to rock onto its side. The damn ape had actually done it. He’d overloaded the ki-sucking systems and went flying out of the steel trap, blinding his attackers. By the time he’d made it to the end of the hallway, the hoard of officers that’d come to secure him were frozen where they stood. Then, one by one, their bodies began to collapse; their helmeted heads and armored torsos sliding separately to the floor. He’d slain them before they could even pull a trigger.

Prying open the security doors was a breeze, and taking over the control deck was even easier. As far as Vegeta knew, he was the only living thing left on the massive transport. Now, all he had to do was locate that damn female. Clicking the control panel to life, he bounced a decapitated head in his other hand. He held the lifeless head up to the retina scanner, calling up the information he needed. Her luminous picture fluttered to the top of the screen. She looked distracted and splattered in blood. Was that her blood? He took a moment to stare. It looked like Bulma was on a transport, too, and not far. Not far at all. In fact, it was almost right under his nose.

* * *

Bulma peered through the shutters, just barely able to see anything but movement, relying mostly on the noises from the walkies of guards. But that’s when there was a sudden movement across one end of the shuttered prison walls to the next, one that sounded like it knocked down a guard. There were ki blasts and gunshots at whatever it was, but then, inevitably, screaming of the guards. It was much easier to tolerate over the walkies. She turned her head to glance over at the other aliens. And despite this being a prison, and despite the fact these people likely dealt with far worse, they all looked horrified. Her lips pressed together as the screams morphed back into an uncomfortable silence.

She was glad she did not feel up to eating; she likely would have been close to throwing it up, with these events. Especially when the alien that had attacked the guards peered through the shutters, its long, long claws trying to find its way through. It was trying to get in. Why would it want to come in? It clearly wasn’t thinking rationally. She had a bad feeling. She slowly got up from her table and began to walk toward the closest door, her feet feeling weightless. She could be wished back, but she’d dealt with enough trauma. She wasn’t going to be horribly mutilated by a thing like that. Would she even come back the same? She wanted to keep her cute face.

She tugged at the door, though she found what she expected– it was locked and shut tight. She glanced again at the other prisoners; some looking at her, others getting the same idea and trying to find places to go. As the alien began to tug harder on the shutters, there was growing panic. She could sense it. Her eyes wandered until they met the area where the food was at. …It was a stupid hiding place, but perhaps it’d be satisfied with everyone else that she’d be spared. Though it reminded her vaguely of hiding in the bushes from the Saiyans, all those months ago.

She hid until the table that the food was on, listening quietly as the panic began to grow. She could hear the thing slowly working on the shutter, and people beginning to speak louder the closer it got to freeing itself. Knocking on the shutters on the other side, demanding to be let free. If there were guards even around, obviously they wouldn’t bother. But they didn’t seem to recognize that their pleas were useless, or maybe it was just their way of attempting to get control over the situation. She heard the shutters rip open, and what were once pleas turned into full-on screams to be let out. People were banging on the shutters, and the screams and bangs only grew louder when the alien seemed to take its first victim of the prisoners– Bulma could tell by the signature snapping of bones and screaming in pain.

* * *

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Feed.

The smell of bad cafeteria food had lured the most dangerous of prisoners into the very cafeteria that Bulma was no trying so desperately to hide herself in. Desperation, that was a good description of the panic that was electrifying the air now. The guards had had no pity on the inmates that were now locked on the other side of the shutters with the ravenous beast. It was all the officers could do to save their own skins. What was the life of a few criminals when quarantine was on the line? The tall, lanky, skeletal like being had already chewed its way through a few guardsmen, but it was still hungry. Feed, feed, feed. That’s all its primitive head could focus on, and luckily there was more than enough fresh meat to fill its belly in this massive room.

The screeching of prisoners only made the beast wilder. The high-pitched screams that left its victims whenever its claws mutilated another body excited it into a scattered fury. The inmates banged and tore at the shutter-walls until their fingertips bled; stepping and crawling over one another. Its head split open like a venus flytrap, unleashing a terrifying screech of its own. There was just too much prey! Every time the monster ripped into one being and began eating, it became side tracked with the desperate flailing of another! Dropping its meal, it went on to the next and the next until there was nothing left but body parts and silence. It’d killed them all… Well, all but one.

The floor ran thick with lakes of colorful bile and blood. The shutters were painted with smelly spilled innards. It ate its fill, until eating was no longer the prime directive. Its instincts shifted onto its next most prominent need. Survival.

Survive. Survive. Survive. Inseminate.

The tap tap tapping of its toe’s long claw on the cafeteria floor echoed eerily through the silent halls. It began swaying, as if it were thinking, searching. Then, its skin came to life. Its disgusting body was covered from head to tail in thousands of lively little tendrils that wriggled and writhed with life of their own. Its worm like skin was simply excited by something in the room, urging the monster to sniff the air and head in the direction of where the food was being kept. It was the smell of a live body. Its horrifying head split open again, stringing saliva and slime from its massive mouth. Giant dollops of snot puddled just at Bulma’s feet. It’d found her.

“SCREEEEEECH!” Its horrible voice ripped through the silence! Its tail found her ankle and the creature began pulling her out from under her hiding spot! It hadn’t ripped her open, yet, but it certainly didn’t have pure intentions, either. Two of its four arms lunged for her, trying to paw her into place under it; the wriggling texture of its skin lacing her with a coating of silky ooze whenever it came in contact with her body heat. It didn’t seem to be able to see well, but its sense of touch was everything.

* * *

She could hear it attacking everyone. The screams made her sick. Chomping of flesh and bone, whines of victims, and eventually– Silence again. What kind of sociopathic animal was this? She knew she had a bad feeling about it. Her eyes wandered to under the tablecloth, and her ears listened for movement. the kind of noises it made– Egh. It didn’t sound human to her. Her brows furrowed as she listened to the beast get closer, and she held her breath. It certainly couldn’t still be hungry, right? …Some part of her wished she’d run off when she had the chance, but perhaps that wouldn’t have been a good idea. She probably would have been quickly caught with how fast it killed everyone. For now, she just had to hope that she was safe.

She could hear it getting closer. She stayed still, her breath caught in her throat once she saw its shadow, and then its feet under the table. Shit, why did it stop? It didn’t sense her, right? Maybe it just wanted the food on top of the table. Shit, she wished she had a weapon.

All at once, it screamed, and Bulma slapped her hands over her ears by the noise only for its tail to wrap around her ankle and drag her out from the table with force. Its claws began grabbing at her, forcing her around in its grasp, and damn if she knew what it was trying to do, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. She didn’t want to be torn apart like all the others! It was a good think he hadn’t restrained her arms! She quickly reached for the table and gripped for anything she could possibly get her hands on. Her fingers curled around a pan holding some slop that the prison called food in it, and she jerked it forward and sent the entire thing hurdling at the monster. That’s when she got a good look at it, right as the pan hit it and she managed just enough time to stun it and run.

She booked it out from the hole he’d created. She didn’t know where the hell she’d run, but she’d run somewhere. Maybe the guards would shoot her quickly if they found her and didn’t know what was going on. She glanced over her shoulder as she ran down the pathway she recalled as being where the cells were, remembering the sick creature. Its skin looked like the inside of a fig, or a million worms. Like fur, without anything that made fur cute and soft. And the way its mouth opened up– Whatever the hell it was, it was completely alien and incredibly disgusting.

She began to pass the cells, and she realized there were people still inside. … That that she had the time or resources to get them out. They were probably in there or a reason, anyway. They’d just slow that thing down, if anything, right? Instead, she just kept running, all the way up until she accidentally body-checked another prison guard.

Hey, at least he didn’t just decide to shoot her. Maybe he knew what was going on.

* * *

“Hey! What are you doing out here!” The guard Bulma had bumped into nearly jumped out of his uniform the moment she’d found him. He must have thought it had been the escaped prisoner. Well, she was an escaped prisoner, but not the one the guard was looking for. His round, scale covered face puffed up, he was clearly shaking. He’d already been set on edge by the events and didn’t have time to correct an inmate. And so, in an instant, the guard grabbed her, flinging her from his bubble of space. The man didn’t seem to be in his right mind, either. Constantly, he looked over his shoulder and aimed his gun at the nothingness at the other end of the long hallway. Nothing. That is, until the lights began to flicker.

“Jaco was right, I was never cut out for a life of this,” his shaky voice mumbled. Then, the lights cut off completely, followed by the dying sound of the ship's main engine. The clacking sound of his gun rattling in his hands was the only sound in the now dark hallway. Even the alarms had stopped their wailing. “We’re all going to die, we’re all going to die,” he kept repeating to himself as he willed his way step by painful step down the blackness of the prison-cell hallway. The guard had all but forgotten Bulma. He could only see a few feet in front of him, thanks to the light at the end of his riffle.

Then, he got a terrible idea… “Hey, you! Get in front of me!” The guard clearly had no self-respect. He was a coward, and had no qualms about grabbing Bulma and pushing her in front of him as a living shield. She could refuse, but he was the one holding the gun. That wasn’t half of her problems, though. There was a distinct rumbling coming from the other side of the hallway. Only, it wasn’t from below, it was from above. There was something in the vents… It came closer, and closer, faster and faster! Sounding as if someone were crawling on their hands and knees on unstable metal.

One of the panels of ceiling popped right off! Revealing the screaming beast, it’s drooling head wide open and looking down into the hallway below! The monster's long arms went for the nearest heat source - the guard himself. Luckily for Bulma he was few feet taller than her, making him an easy target from above. The creature continued to strangle the man, his feet dangling while he yelled and clawed to free himself! He dropped his gun in order to try and pry the thing from his throat. Suddenly, blood gushed from the hole in the ceiling, and then there was silence again.

* * *

She was thankful the man didn’t automatically fire his gun at her or do something else rash. No, he seemed to respect her need to get away to some extent. He looked terrified, too; he knew what was going on. Of course he did. He was mumbling to himself, and seemed to have forgotten about her. Good. Maybe she should make a break for it? She didn’t want to be locked up in a cell again, but perhaps it was better to be around someone with a gun. Even if the alien had previously mowed down various other guards that certainly had guns, as well. But as she mulled on the decision, the guard made a choice for her, pulling her in front of him as a human shield. She protested for a moment, but she had no choice but to go quiet when she heard noises starting to come from the other end of the hallway.

As the sound got faster and closer, Bulma felt her fight or flight reaction kick in. She grabbed the man’s arm and was just about to fling herself around his being to just run, but mid-step, one of the vent ceiling panels flew to the ground, with a clank loud and terrifying enough Bulma reactively let go of the man. And in a moment’s notice, the man was gone. Sucked up. She only glanced up for a moment, but she knew what was going on. She saw the man’s dangling body as it worked on consuming him. Bulma didn’t wait. She grabbed the left-over gun and booked it down the hall yet again, trying to remember the lobby. More guards would surely be there, right? Maybe she should just find a hiding place. She may get shot, running around with a gun. She glanced back, brows furrowing at the pool of blood left over in the now-empty hallway.

She couldn’t even hear it anymore. But as she ran, getting increasingly out of breath, she heard noises. …Not monster noises. Alien noises. People talking in the universal language. She debated heading in that direction, but she recalled the rampage. …Perhaps if she was just close enough for safety– She slowed down to a jog, glancing around before finding a door marked as a closet. She tried to force it open, and thankfully, she was successful; it slid open for her and she was able to hide, with no way to see outside other than slits in the door.

She clung to her gun tightly, using the light from the hallway to try and figure out how it worked. It couldn’t be that different from normal guns, right? Pull the trigger… Yeah, she just had to wait and stay quiet. Listen. As long as she was able to do that, she’d be safe. Her nose was running, and she suppressed the urge to sniffle. Hell, she was barely breathing, even with how fast she’d run, trying to force herself to be as silent as she could possibly manage. The only thing she could hear were the people in the distance. No footsteps, no howls, not yet.

* * *

It had been a while since the stench of freedom had grazed the creature's snout. It knew that’s what this was, a taste of a new kind of freedom from the prison it’d been kept in. How long had it been kept in that tiny, dingy cell? Long enough for its blood-lust and natural cravings to grow to their breaking points. Long enough for it to imprint the scent of each and every guard that came to feed it scraps and taunt it. The beast had gone on its rampage, reaping havoc on those that’d oppressed it, but now a new drive was eking its way into its little brain. The need to survive, it longed to nest.

The howling sound of helpless lives eventually ripped through the distant hall that Bulma had debated entering. Her choice to hide had more than likely spared her from a fate worse than death. Murder wasn’t on the creature's agenda any more, storing food for its long trek across the galaxy was its new target. Inmate after inmate, as well as the occasional officer, was caught between its claws. With its head wide open, a long slimy tentacle shot out of the monster’s esophagus like a wild serpent searching for any place to nestle into. Its victims were left glossy eyed and covered in the ooze that so often dripped from the creatures exposed gullet. But that wasn’t the worst of it… It fashioned its new collection of bodies onto the vacant walls of the hallways. Not dead, but certainly not capable of movement, left to dangle in the tar like substance that kept them stuck to their new found tombs.

Bulma had been all but forgotten. The monster was busy with its newest endeavor - a particular guard that had enjoyed banging on the creature's cell door on more than one occasion. The creature’s head opened and outshot the writhing tentacle, but that wasn’t all… Suddenly, its entire chest cavity ripped open, revealing a dozen or more of the slimy tentacles, each one slurping its way all over the distressed guard. The guard screamed, the creature screeched, and then the monster’s body slowly consumed him until the guard’s body burst into chunks.

Meanwhile…

A distress beacon was lighting up the control board of a certain transport that happened to be commandeered by a certain Saiyan Prince. Vegeta didn’t have to check the occupants of the transport in distress to know Bulma was on it. She had to be on it. He had a feeling, a bad feeling. He shook his head under the dim light of the pilot’s chair. Of course, she’d be on that transport, the female left a trail of trouble wherever she went. Slowly, his bare hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans, revealing a small capsule. He’d been waiting to sport his new armor until he was looking war in the face, but this seemed to be a good enough reason. Popping the capsule, his freshly made armor and suit lay out before him. Now, only time would tell if he’d find her dead or alive.

* * *

She sat in silence, in darkness, waiting for some noise. And… There it was. Screaming coming from the hallway that she had debated going down. She knew it. Though it disturbed her that she hadn’t heard the creature actually go down the hallway. How did it get that quiet? She let out a breath and shook her head. What the hell was she even going to do? She debated her choices, wiping her running noise, when she just happened to glance down and notice blood on the crotch of her pants. … …As if there wasn’t anything else for her to fucking worry about.

She couldn’t help but wonder about its sense of smell. With a problem like this, maybe she’d get caught even sooner. It would be stupid to stay in one place, then, wouldn’t it? It had gotten quiet again– She should probably head out. After a moment of hesitation, she slid the door open and glanced around. No sign of any monster. She gripped her gun tightly and began to walk down the hallway rather briskly, thankful her eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that she wasn’t tripping over herself. …She wanted to take control of the ship, but she wasn’t going to be able to do that without power, was she? Damn, getting power back up better not be a pain in the ass.

She was met with some of the dead bodies, though some were gone– And she knew they were gone, because a bloody trail led off to where the monster likely decided to go. She squinted and saw things that looked as if they were bulging from the walls of the hallway, but she’d be damned if she was going to go check it out. Instead, she just kept walking, hoping to get lucky and come across any kind of control room where maybe she could get the power started again, hopefully without making too much noise. Why did these kinds of things always happen to her? Was she so terrible as a younger girl that everything just suddenly caught up with her?

* * *

There was nothing but Dead. Silence. The longer the creature was left to roam the dark corridors of the prison, the more victims were claimed and nested onto the vessel’s walls. It was a silent stalker, but not as quiet or quick as the Saiyans Bulma was used to. Its long talons clicked on the metal flooring whenever it walked and its body occasionally lifted to life with its many tiny tendrils to stop and taste the air. There was a reason, though, that Bulma hadn’t heard it coming. The creature was sentient, and it was learning. The quickest way to move about the ship seemed to be the air-ducts that wound their way throughout the entirety of the ship.

And unfortunately… That was exactly where Bulma was heading, if she wanted the ship to come back to life that is. The only light in the entire place was a trail of simple blinking dots along the walls that lead towards the control room. It was the emergency backup system lighting up the correct hallways to follow in order to find the power generator and return the ship to normal. However, there was a catch. There was always a catch. It’d have to be flipped on manually, and the only way to get there was through a lofty tunnel that passed through the air vents.

The metal bars of the ladder that lead up the tunnel were already gooey and dripping with green blood. Something screeched in the distance, moans followed. There was a body sitting just below the high tunnel, too. If the guard was dead or alive, it was hard to tell. The alien body was crumpled over onto its side and it was sitting in a pool of its own juices. However, the scouter on its face kept repeating the same instructions.

“Officer 11912, have you made it to the generator? Repeat. Have you made it to the-” Screaming over took the man’s voice and the sounds of terror poured out of the tiny scouter speaker, and then static ensued.

* * *

Once she reached a certain point when walking, she’d noticed green lights along the wall, glowing dimly along with the alien words ‘control room.’ Whatever had happened to the lighting, it seemed like there was some kind of back-up to help people fumbling through the darkness find their way. She was lucky she’d had enough experience with this stupid language. She let out a little huff and continued on, following the lights down the long pathways and listening for noise. Either the alien had killed everyone in the general vicinity by now, or everyone was just lying in wait and hiding best they could. But it definitely wasn’t a surprise to her when she saw a dead alien, oozing sticky green blood, laying below a short ladder with a scouter calling to him.

She glanced around and tried to listen for the alien that’d gone on a killing rampage. She could hear it making noises, off in the distance. It didn’t echo like it would if it was coming from the small tunnel, though. She shoved her gun into the waistband of her prison pants and climbed up the sticky ladder, peering inside. Nothing, from what she could tell. The walls glowed the same dim green, and Bulma sucked up her fear and began crawling inside of it. It was a little noisier than she would have liked, and she pulled the gun out again just to hold onto. As if she could do that much maneuvering in a little tunnel. Stupid damn design…

Luckily, the tunnel was not long. It was only a few feet before she dropped down into the control room, purposely hidden away and with a grand sight of the galaxy. It was much brighter than the rest of the ship, lit by all the far-away stars of varying colors. She could forget about all this crap, at least for a little while. Her attention turned to one of the screens ahead- the only one lit up. Giving directions. It explained the problem; the back-up generator had failed for some reason. It happened; these idiots probably didn’t do any maintenance. Either way, the lights would have to come back on through manually flipping the switches on a fuse box. It gave directions as to where in the room the map was, to help lead there. She pushed the gun back in her waistband and walked to the cabinets on the backside of the control room, digging around until she found it. A rolled-up map that showed the layout of the whole place.

Good.

* * *

The control room may have been the sole place of peace on the entire barge. There was no sign of a struggle, no puddle of blood or oozing black goo from the walls. It had been abandoned, but there was another soft, subtle blinking on the otherwise blacked-out control panel. It was the back up security system yet again. The backup systems had flipped on the emergency security cameras -cameras that would only come to life when something moved past them in order to preserve the dead ship’s precious energy reserves.

As Bulma busied herself in the storage compartments, one of the security cameras was triggered. It started with a staticky scream, followed by gurgles and yells that could have only been the creature and yet another victim. Only this time, if Bulma dared to glance at the image on screen, she’d witness a bizarre, if not completely disgusting act from the creature. In the grainy image, the creature had a convict in its clutches. Its massive body opened up yet again, revealing its tender, squirmy tentacles. The tentacles wormed their way into every orifice that the alien in its clutches had. Nothing was left untouched, there were just too many of the squirmy tendrils slopping all over the victim's body. Orally, anally, and attempting to penetrate through the convict’s bellybutton. The tentacles invaded its victim’s body, consuming, binding, becoming one with its prey until it appeared to have eaten the body whole. But then… It let go. Disgustingly, painfully, but it dropped the body onto the floor before dragging it away, back into the dark.

The security camera went black again.

Where had it gone? Into the ventilation system, or perhaps back into the dining hall for a snack? The cameras couldn’t seem to sense it among the shadows that now consumed the ship’s halls. If it was even using the halls anymore, that is. There was a good chance the camera systems had finally snapped off, too. It seemed system after system were slowly shutting down, thanks to the poor upkeep of the drifting prison. The lack of upkeep had released the creature from its hold in the first place. The power-draining cell that it’d been locked away in had been the first thing to go. Who knew what would shut down next; gravity, heating, or worse, the life support systems.

* * *

Just as she finished looking over the map, she saw the security camera flick on. Curious, she walked over to observe and get a good look at where whatever was around was hiding. It was the monster heading on-screen, holding some fighting convict in its grasp. So, there were still people living on the ship? Her brows furrowed. But then… It started… Doing something. It wasn’t killing him; it wasn’t eating him like she’s seen it eat other victims. It was… Christ. Where was it even hiding all those fleshy tentacles? She watched it happen, watching the struggling limbs of the victims as it got essentially devoured by the monster’s body, and then… He got dropped. It was hard to tell if the convict was alive or dead. The monster carried him off, and the camera turned black. Bulma stood and stared for a moment longer, before turning and heading back out of the control room. She wasn’t happy about it, but she had to do something rather than sit around and wait for whatever fate that was.

She rubbed her eyes as they adjusted to the darker environment, and used what little light she got from the green dim lights along the wall in order to guide her. She’d seen enough of the map to get a good look at where she should be going. But as she continued, she realized she’d gotten more than a little unlucky. Far into her journey, when she was about three fourths of the way to her destination, the walls began to get sticky. Not with blood, but some disgusting substance. It reminded her of a nest of sorts, and it made her stomach drop as she began to walk along the gooey substance to go further in. Her eyes had adjusted enough by now to make out the occasional victim sucked into the substance, as if it were decoration or something. Why the hell were they keeping something like this locked up in a prison, anyway? Wasn’t this a problem for someone greater? This seemed too intense. It’s not like it could be sentient or something, right? …Why did this shit always have to happen to her?

As she walked further along, the goo squishing underneath her prison sandals, she huffed to see that the road up ahead had been blocked. The gooey substance reached out further, turning it into a wall. She couldn’t go further. At least, she didn’t think so. That’s when she noticed the vent on the side of the wall. Partially covered, but Bulma managed to push the sticky goo out of the way. Thankfully aliens seemed to prefer easy-open vents over vents that were screwed shut, and she was able to pull the vent door open and pull herself in. It was humid, loud, and tight, but there was enough room for her to crawl. She had to get to that stupid fuse box…

* * *

There was something moving among its nest and it wasn’t the many half dead organisms it’d collected and strung along the walls like a bad horror flick. The creature had all but cleared away any life that’d been left on board the floating spacecraft. The terrible guards that’d once punished it for following its instincts, the disgusting inmates it’d been riding along side with in silence, and that horrible buzzing sound that’d always rang through its sensitive head and tendrils like wild electricity. It was all taken care of. The ship had gone cold, silent, dark, just the way the creature liked it. It’d chosen its new home -a place among the stars. Its savage revenge had been taken out upon every living vessel in the place, or so it’d thought.

There was little wonder why the creature had been locked away in the first place. It was vile, it was abominable, and it had maimed more than its fair share life between planets. But it was only doing what came naturally. And right now, its nature was telling it to check up on its nest. A certain smell had suddenly begun filtering through the ventilation system. That scent hadn’t been there before; its internal functions drove it to protect its more sensitive nesting areas. The creature was on red alert, much like the ship it’d infested.

The clanking of its long claws clattered through the twists and turns of the dark tunnels of air passages. The ship was cold and only growing colder. The cool metal felt good against its lively, squirming skin. The passage may have been tight for Bulma, but it was even more difficult for the creature to wiggle through, but it managed by brute force and strength alone. Then it found it. The source. There was something in the distance moving towards a faint light that was twinkling from one of the only lit rooms on the whole barge -the room with the fuse box.

It slinked closer and closer, writhing and pushing its slimy body frantically through the vent until its chattering, drooling, angry gargles could be heard just behind the intruder. It could sense a body, someone had survived! The moment it caught up to the blurry blue intruder one of its many arms darted out, trying to grasp whatever piece of fabric or flesh it could get its hooks into. Breed, feed, kill, stop! Its mind raced, and with its frantic frustration a wicked scream wailed from its opened face, rattling the very metal and echoing throughout the dark passages of vents. Bulma may have found the room with the fuse box, but something else had found her, too.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it's a bit on the nose that I had watched Alien for the first time about this point in our roleplay.
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	4. The Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta finds Bulma.

**Her POV**

She climbed into the vent and crawled forward until the vent went straight upward. She stood up and grabbed onto the edge of the vent, just above her head, and hopped to give herself a head-start in forcing herself into the part of the vent that went straight forward again. It took a little effort to force herself forward after managing to get her torso up, but she’d managed to continue to crawl. Christ, maybe she’d gotten a little more muscle than she used to. It was kind of surprising, given she felt so damn sick and had gone through so much physically in the past few months. In all honesty, she was surprised she didn’t end up dead by now, at minimum from giving her body too much of a shock. …Not that now was the time to think; she just had to keep moving.

As she continued to move through the dark, army-crawling along the vent, she thought she smelled something. She heard some vague rustling, but nothing she was too worried about. She eventually reached a vent cover that let in green light. Looking below, it was obvious what it was- The room with the fuse box. She let out a sigh of relief; she wouldn’t have to be in this stinky, irritating vent shaft anymore. Though that was a major fall; she’d have to be careful.

Luckily for her, just as she shifted her weight to get to the shaft, she heard noises behind her. Growling, groaning, and the sound of scuffling. Her head shot behind her back to see the monster coming right for her, barely illuminated by the green light but clearly coming fast. It was reaching for her and going too fast for a human to outpace, especially with a crawl. Her stomach dropped, and she scrambling as quickly as she could to open the vent, her heart beating a little faster with every moment longer it took to pull it off. But as soon as it was off and the vent was open, she didn’t bother dropping down safely. She just fell straight through, rather than get caught by that thing.

She landed right on her shoulder, and a pang of pure, aching, terrible pain shot through her from the spot she’d hit. She rolled over and squirmed out of the way of the vent hole, stumbling up to her feet as she did so and readying her gun. The fuse box caught her eye, and while she had the opportunity, she quickly flipped all the switches she could, turning them to ‘off’ and then back ‘on’ again in some quick, stumbling motions to try and get it done as soon as possible. It took a moment, but the ship buzzed to life, with all the lights and other things that had been turned off suddenly coming back to life again. Gn… Thank god.

Just as quickly as she’d switched all the switches, she ran for the door and forced it open, loud enough to slam against the wall with a loud ‘BANG.’ Of course she wasn’t stupid enough to stay in the room; she had to get the fuck out of there as soon as humanly possible.

* * *

**His POV**

It’d almost gotten her! It had been so close, it had even scraped her delicate calf with its long deadly claws, but left little more in its grasp than shredded fabric. Screeches and screams followed, bellowing throughout the entire ship, thanks to the creature being stuck in the vents. It was clear, it wasn’t happy. It sounded down right furious. How dare that little piece of pray try to escape him! After all the trouble the creature had gone through to capture or kill every other living thing on the barge? There was no way it’d let that blue-headed thing escape! But not matter how murderous the creature’s intentions were, it couldn’t seem to dislodge itself from the tight vent. That only made it worse.

The lights blazed to life the moment Bulma found the breaker, blinding the creature and sending it into another fit of panic and rage, lodged in the vent. Its body squirmed and wriggled, contorted and arched, but it just couldn’t seem to free itself. Probably because it was panicking so badly rather than thinking things through. And through all of its angry thrashing, its sensitive skin came to life like an angry lizard displaying its frill. It’d just slime its way free.

The lubricant that coated its wormy skin released enough of the disgusting substance that it dripped onto the floor below. Finally, it freed itself, but not without a cost. The opening of the vent caught its exposed tendril-esc skin, ripping it open as it fell to the floor below. Its smelly blood poured down its side but the creature was too hyped up on adrenaline and anger to care. It only had one thing on its tiny brain. Seek and destroy that blue thing that’d caused it so much trouble.

It burst through the slammed door right behind Bulma, knocking the steel door right off of its hinges. Its flytrap like head hissed open, its body crouched into a runner's stance with its many arms on display, it was after her. Now that they were on even ground there was no way Bulma could escape its speed. Its massive legs sprung it down the hallway, seeing her out despite any chase or retaliation Bulma may have given it. And as soon as it had her, its body did that disgusting ritual again. It began to open up and writhe as if it were turning inside out.

A new array of long, thick, flicking tentacles crawled out if its chest cavity, pulling the girl into its pink, spongy body. The new, larger tendrils searched over her under her clothing like desperate worms looking for a place to bury themselves. No part of her body was left untouched. The blunt ends of the tentacles forcefully nosed their way over her skin, exploring everything from the space between her toes, her belly button, her thighs, and even her mouth. It was trying to consume her until there was nothing left but flesh, slime, and its newest victim.

* * *

**Her POV**

She didn’t hesitate when she ran down the hallway, just trying to book it without even looking at the monster that was trying to flee from the vent and get her. Unluckily for Bulma, just as she was running through the thick muck that covered the hallway’s floors and walls, tentacles wrapped around her body and jerked her backward into the beast. Her heart all but stopped when she felt it grab onto her, and despite her wriggling, the many tentacles overtook her. They wrapped around her like it was out of some disturbing porn cartoon, writhing under her clothes and wrapping around every limb. It curled around her neck, her arms, her legs, her waist– All multiple times over, and sucking her further up against the heat of the monster’s body.

The tentacles themselves were covered in the same fur-like tiny tentacle skin the rest of the monster was, adding to the overpowering feeling of being violated. It wasn’t ‘feeling her up’ in the way so many men had done before to her, but somehow the term felt far more correct than in any of those circumstances. She shivered despite her feeling intense heat, and struggled all the more as the many tentacles did to her what she saw in the security camera. Not only was it trying desperately to push itself into her belly button, her nose, her ears– It succeeded in getting into her easier-to-reach holes. Her body quaked at the feeling of its writhing skin rolling over her clit as one of the limbs began pushing inside her vagina, and another pushed into her ass. Another forced itself down her mouth. It wasn’t necessarily sexual, either; it didn’t stop, it didn’t go in and out. It just kept going, the tentacles feeling much like a pump as it slowly forced itself into her, cutting off her breathing and making her feel more violated than she thought she’d ever be able to feel.

Though somehow, it felt– Good, almost. She was completely overcome with the feeling of being touched all over from the tentacles overtaking her, slithering softly and slowly along her entire body- Over her clit, over her nipples, blocking her vision, and so on. It made her toes curl, though there were so many tentacles somehow that they’d even gone between her toes. It felt warm. Really warm; almost comforting. Yet she knew she had to escape. It was cutting off her breathing, and though it felt so comforting and some part of her brain thought it might be somewhat pleasant to just let it do its work, she was acutely aware of the gun still in her hand. She hadn’t let go of it. There was a tentacle trying to push its way inside the barrel, but she hadn’t let go of it.

She struggled less, but still focused on trying to get her limb free so she could shoot the gun. Just enough to aim, at least. The tentacles were tight, but she had confidence. That’s when the tentacles stopped. She didn’t know how far into her body they all were; there was a pain in her throat and a slightly larger pain in her abdomen, but otherwise, there was no way of knowing. It started– Pumping. Not in the way a man would ‘pump’ into an orifice, but the way a pipe pumps water. She could feel the tentacles moving, like you could see a throat swallow. It was letting out something. Her brows furrowed and she struggled a little harder, if only just to get out of the quickly worsening experience. Her body may have been reacting positively to the pumping, but she fought all the more, only for it to begin slowly retracting again. It’d given her an opportunity; something it truly should not have done. As soon as there was enough of a slackened grip on her right arm, she quickly pulled her arm out and shifted around to shoot it right into its body, where all its tentacles had come from.

She felt the ki radiate into her unpleasantly from being too close, but she didn’t care. She kept shooting her gun, this time aiming straight into its mouth when it opened the disgusting lips it had.

* * *

**His POV**

There was no one to meet him in the hanger of the lifeless barge. Though the freighter hung lifeless, dark, quiet over the backdrop of space, Vegeta had expected some retaliation, if not a flock of fleeing inmates to greet him once he boarded the prison vessel. But there was nothing other than the dim flicker of sparking wire and emergency power. His pristine boots silently clacked past the unused escape pods, finding it unusual. Just what the hell had happened? Sure, the prince knew something had gone down before he’d ever arrived. He’d picked up the prison’s distress signal, but no one would have expected an armed space craft to just go cold.

It didn’t take long to piece together just what had gone down on the craft. The piles of bodies and the stench of freshly spilled blood and guts made it all too easy for him. There had been a break out, something dangerous had been running rampant on the barge, and it appeared to have taken down the entire ship. Vegeta felt his adrenaline rush through his veins. God damn, where was she? Why couldn’t he have arrived just a few moments sooner? He had been so angry at her for getting caught in such a stupid situation, but that was quickly warping into worry. His quick speed drove him through one dark floor of the barge and onto the next, searching desperately for that one familiar scent. Her scent. Of all the fool hardy idiots in the universe, surely she couldn’t have gone down so easily. Could she?

he couldn’t believe she’d give up so easily. She was alive, somewhere, he just had to track her down. His determination led him to the higher levels. Then, there it was. It was faint, thanks to the much of so much gore steaming through the halls, but it was there. It was the irrefutable scent of Bulma, but it was followed closely by something much more sinister. He hadn’t been the only thing tracking her down… His lip curled and his jealous anger flared. The smell grew stronger, his movements quicker, his heart faster, leading him into the control room. Bulma. She’d been here just moments before, he was sure of it. Then, the ship jolted to life and the control room brightened before his very eyes. The screens flickered with static around him, waiting to be reset. This was no mere chance; someone had flipped the power on. He knew it was her. Good girl.

And then the sound of blood curdling screams and angry screeches rattled throughout the ship’s ventilation systems. God damn it, no! He refused to come this close just to find her corpse! Zooming towards the drowning sound of her voice, Vegeta arrived just in time to witness what could only be explained as a being consuming something with the very rope of its innards, having its head blown clean off. The creature’s head opened and wailed the moment he arrived, exposing its tender gullet. The thick black goo of its head splattered in every direction the moment Bulma’s gun went off in its disgusting face. The many tentacles fell limp, along with the creature, and collapsed to the floor. Revealing none other than its last victim, Bulma. Before he could react, Vegeta caught her gaze. He couldn’t decide if he felt more anger, relief, or pride.

* * *

**Her POV**

The monster fell to her feet. She stared down at it, panting heavily. She dropped the gun and let out a loud sigh of relief as the some of the tentacles detached. Ahh… She was alone now, probably. She stared down at the unmoving, clearly dead monster, and after a single beat, she looked up. And blinked. Her eyes focused on Vegeta, standing there with a similarly bewildered look. And before Bulma could even properly react to the newly-appeared (he wasn’t just a figment of her imagination, right?) Saiyan, she found her knees buckle and she fell straight onto her butt beside the creature.

She rubbed her head, feeling the heaviness of being so exhausted finally hit her. She hadn’t eaten, drank water, bathed, or slept in… In who knew how long? She’d been running on pure adrenaline. Her body ached and begged for rest, especially after exerting itself in the past ten or so minutes. She really wasn’t sure what to do with herself now, though she was sure if Vegeta had come this far, he’d certainly take care of any loose ends. He had food, hopefully. Water– Ah… How did he get here? She didn’t want to go back in a tight pod before taking a shower. Then she could take a rest and feel better again.

And… Her clothes where somewhere, too. Her real clothes, not just the dirty potato sack-like rags they’d forced her into, that some tentacles were still pushed down inside of. Her head pounded, and she rubbed her face before taking one last look at Vegeta that said all she wanted pretty clearly. She wasn’t rejecting him at all, but she certainly wasn’t going to be getting up from her spot. He’d picked her up plenty of times before; she needed a little help this time, too.

* * *

**His POV**

He watched her fall to the blood-stained floor as if in slow motion. The look she gave him, he knew what it meant all too well. Her eyes spoke volumes; she was relying on him. It was a strange realization, but one that he was slowly beginning to recognize in her. The moment she began to descend, Vegeta was there to catch her up into his arms. He cradled her limp body as if that’s what he was there for, even if he’d originally been ready to scold her for getting herself caught. She’d caused so much trouble for him, more than she’d probably know, but how he could he be anything other than proud when she was covered in her latest kill? Her skin was wet with blood and her clothing was torn. Her body smelt of adrenaline. In that moment, she wasn’t a foolish earthling, she was an accomplished warrior who’d vanquished her foe.

Still, that didn’t stop the arrogant look he shot down at her as he walked them back towards the hanger bay. Of course it had to be this female that’d be the lone survivor. Of course she of all creatures had to tangle herself into a mess like this. His head shook, half amused as he returned them to his stolen police vessel (that was still docked in the much bigger prison ship). She’d need medical attention, and knowing her, probably a bath. The woman was always so demanding when it came to grooming, though he had to admit ridding her of the smell of that creature would be welcome. He didn’t like mingling scents on her skin, at least any other than his own.

The small medical bay in the police cruiser was their first stop. Vegeta laid her body out on the only medical table in the room. There, he could finally have a proper glance over her. Lifting her grimy prison clothes, his gloved fingers slowly tailed down the length of her side, past her ribs and to her legs, inspecting for any lesions, any sign of broken bones. Then his gaze flicked up, back to her exhausted face. Was she still slipping in and out of consciousness, was she awake? His glove smoothed the mess of blue strands from her face, looking for that demanding pout she’d always give him when she wanted something. His anger for her had all been forgotten, replaced by a new pride at seeing a fellow warrior display her strength. She deserved his attention, not to mention maybe some part of him was pleased to have her back.

* * *

**Her POV**

Just about as soon as her bottom hit the ground, she was swooped up again by Vegeta, bridal-style. Her arms wrapped around his neck loosely, and the first thing she did was rest her forehead against his temple. There was a time where she’d loathe being this close. But it felt so natural now. And she was far too exhausted in every way imaginable to bother even thinking about whether or not she hated it. Rather, she just relinquished herself to him, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly ajar as she rested. He was taking her off somewhere, pushing past goo with much less difficulty than she had. For a moment she passed out even, but only for perhaps a minute before she was conscious again, though only slightly. They were still in the ship, but they were leaving to the one he had clearly docked from. Ahn… Her clothes. Wait, she wanted– She wanted food, water, her real clothes… …But she didn’t bother saying it. She was too tired, and she passed out again.

This time when she awoke, it must have been at least ten, perhaps fifteen minutes later. This time she didn’t know where she was. Vegeta hovered over her, so she didn’t dwell on it. Seemed like a medical bay or something. He was prodding and poking at her, checking her for injuries or something to that extent. She didn’t really care all that much. She turned her head to the side and fluttered her eyes tiredly, though just as she did so Vegeta brushed hair from her face. She looked back at him with a tired glare and a slight pout, and a loose fist slowly pushed up in his direction, though with no real intention of doing much else than giving him a light tap on his chest before falling back down at Bulma’s side.

“Nn… Vegeta,” she mumbled, her voice hoarse now that she’d gotten some amount of sleep. “Before– Before we leave… …I want my clothes.” Of all the things she could ask for, she focused on that. He’d have to go back into the ship, but she wanted her damn clothes back, even if those were equally bloody. They were still cuter than the potato sack they’d put her into. And then they could get back to that planet… And she could get her capsules back. And dress in something far, far more comfortable. Gn… That asshole wouldn’t make her trek through the desert again, would he? She’d passed out last time…

Just as she focused on that memory, her brows furrowing, she fluttered off into unconsciousness again. This time, her body seemed set on getting some well-needed rest.

* * *

**His POV**

And there it was, the sign he’d been looking for, the small pouty look that dared to take over her exhaustion. And it wasn’t just that, she added a soft punch to his armor, too. He cracked a grin. Vegeta didn’t have to ask to know what that meant, it meant there would be no arguing with the stubborn woman. His hand ran the course of her jaw, giving her his own little scoff, as if disregarding her, but it was an obvious bluff. He’d initially wanted to ignore her demand for clothing, thinking it stupid when there were plenty of spare uniforms to choose from in the medical bay, but he knew how this particular earthling could be when it came to clothing… Absolutely ridiculous.

Watching her fade into true sleep, he caught the hand that’d tried to punch him and softly smoothed his palm up the length of her arm. She didn’t appear to have any broken bones, and her body was free from any damage aside from bruising or the random scrape. Cosmetic damage. Nothing that a quick cleansing of her skin and a few swabs of medical cream wouldn’t fix. And when he was satisfied with tending to her wounds, the prince crept quietly out of the ship, but not without leaving one of the dead officer’s pistols near her reach. He’d just gotten her back, leaving her unattended and unconscious on the ship felt risky when knowing her reputation.

Her clothing was locked away with every other inmates’ confiscated belongings, and hers were the most obvious of all, thanks to the stench of blood and earthling being all over them. Despite it only taking him a few quick moments to return, Vegeta couldn’t help but suspect the girl’s disappearance, or to confront a random survivor by the time he arrived back at their ship. It looked like the coast was clear, but was it a false sense of security? The animal prowled back into the medical bay, his edgy attitude retreating once he saw the sleeping female right where he left her. Could he be blamed for finding it odd that nothing had happened since his return?

Her troublesome clothing was left in a pile on the tray next to her bed …along with a few other items. A spare space suit, a few food rations, and of course, the pistol. After one last glance, Vegeta left her for good, heading for the cockpit. They’d spent too much time on this desolate barge. It was time to reclaim their place among the stars, and reclaim his place as leader of his pack. The engines rattled to life, and then the police vessel drifted silently into the starlit abyss, back towards the planet where his pod waited.

* * *

**Her POV**

She didn’t wake for a while. At least hours. She had just rested the whole time, getting what energy she could get back without any water or food. When she did awake, her stomach growled and she was immediately launched into a coughing fit that shook mucus loose and made her nose run. Gn… All her exhaustion had finally caught up with her. She’d been coming down with something before, now it seemed to be getting worse. It was especially bad, considering how thirsty and hungry she was. Gn… Where did Vegeta go? She looked around, rubbing her head before her eyes laid down on the clothes. He’d brought them. Along with a few other things for her– A space suit, some rations, and… A gun.

She looked over the space suit, and her nose wrinkled. It looked more breathable than the clothes she was currently wearing, yes, but– No. She didn’t want to wear that crap. Even if it was clean, unlike the clothes she wanted to wear. It was way, way too ugly. She scoffed at it and instead got off the bed, albeit slightly wobbly as she did so, to dress into her older clothing instead. They were bloody, but she could clean it up and hopefully get most of the dirtiness off. It must have stained by now, but she’d be able to do something for it, right? Either way, her old prison clothes were left in a heap, kicked aside and down under the bed, along with the single sandal she’d been wearing since at some point losing the other one. Stupid clothes. She stunk thanks to them, and it was not help that she was bleeding again; she’d been all but freebleeding since it began earlier, staining the skin of the upper-most part of her inner thighs.

She turned her attention to the food and started eating immediately. It didn’t matter to her if it tasted disgusting. Her appetite had since come back, likely from a will to survive because of just how hungry she was. She may have been sickened by what the two Saiyans had tried to do, but that was long since forgotten given what Bulma had just gone through. So, the food was down in a matter of a couple minutes, and as soon as she was finished, she took the gun and went off to go find that idiot that’d saved her again. He could at least point her to where she could take a bath. She rubbed her head as she walked down the hallway, sniffling when she felt her nose start to run again.

“Vegeta! Vegeta, where are you?”

* * *

**His POV**

Space travel in a pod may be quiet, but there was nothing quite like the rumble of a real spaceship’s engine to lull one into a contemplative trance. The slow, smooth sailing of the purple and blue nebulae that surrounded the ship was the only light, thanks to the massive windowpanes that encapsulated the control room. Vegeta sat alone in the main pilot’s chair. His gloved fist on his cheekbone and his eyes dug into the distance of stars. It’d be a while until they reached their destination and that fact got under his skin. He was ready to tear into his men for what he knew they were bound to have done by now, without him. His fingers bit into the arm rest of his chair, just as a little chime of a voice whispered around the corner behind him, taking him from his detrimental thoughts.

She’d found him. The smell of blood clung to her, but the prince didn’t swivel or stir in his chair. However, he did give her a little answering ‘grunt’. It had been a while since he’d gone to check on her. Vegeta was beginning to suspect she’d stay asleep for the length of their journey. But of course not, when did this little earthling ever sit still for that long?

“You reek,” he muttered, finally turning his attention over his shoulder. As he’d suspected, she wasn’t in the clean, practical space suit he’d given her, but her ratty earthling clothes. His brow twitched. He could have chalked up his annoyance to her silly emotional attachments to her clothes, but there was more to it than that. She wasn’t taking proper care of herself again, she wasn’t being practical. Did she at least have the gun on her he’d left her? The prince finally turned in his chair, giving her his profile. His eyes roamed her figure for any sign of the weapon, discretely of course.

But it wasn’t the weapon that he noticed; it was the snot running from her nose to her full lip. Something about it alerted him; was she so disheveled? His head shook and hot air blew out of his nose, not fully understanding the situation. It was probably a side effect of her battling that creature. She had just taken a kill, looking a mess just came with the aftermath, he knew that. Despite how callused and scornful he could appear, the prince had to admit -he was damn glad to see her. And alive. Something about that put a softness in his dark eyes, just as he kicked the swiveling chair opposite of him; a gesture offering her a place to sit.

* * *

**Her POV**

She found him in the cockpit. It was wide and open, like something out of a sci-fi fantasy. It was reminiscent of the previous cockpit she’d been in, but this one did not require crawling into. It was far more open, and the window that showed the vast universe was far more wide, going all the way to the top to that one was completely surrounded by stars that lit up the cockpit, ensuring it wasn’t too dark. And in the middle of it sat Vegeta, in one of the many chairs, refusing to face her but giving her a grunt of acknowledgement. …Before referencing her smell. Her nose wrinkled. Of all the things to say… Of course she knew she smelled.

“Yeah, that’s what I came to you about…” Finally, he turned to face her, giving her a look up and down and a hint of softness coming across his features. She was quiet for a moment as he looked her over, and shook her head when he kicked the chair as an offer as a place to sit. She didn’t want to just sit around with him when she was this dirty; she wanted to be clean as fast as possible.

“I want to take a bath. I don’t know where anything is here… There’s got to be some kind of room or something to take a shower, right? I feel so disgusting… And do you have any water? Drinking water, I mean. You had rations, but I’m so thirsty, too. It’s not exactly easy to take care of yourself when you’re cooped up in a cell, you know…” She gave a quick swipe of her nose with her thumb, and felt a tickle in the back of her throat, though she resisted coughing. She supposed all that stress had finally taken its toll on her and caused her to get sick. Who knows how long it’d been boiling under the surface.

* * *

**His POV**

She couldn’t be serious, could she? Vegeta gave the woman the most deadpanned expression; pressing his white fingers into the skin of his temple. Sure, he’d known she’d be making demands regarding cleaning herself, but could she really not find the basics on a ship this small? It wasn’t like they were in a brothel, but the things she requested were next to common knowledge for Vegeta. How she could find her way around that giant house of hers back on earth, muscle her way through a fortress of a space station, but couldn’t locate a bath tub to save her life perplexed him.

It looked like he really didn’t have a choice in the matter, not by the way she was starting to stare at him at least. So after a groan and a gnashing of teeth, the prince reluctantly rose from his chair and shot the girl one more bemused look; his arms crossing sarcastically over his armor. He was trying to hold that dominating stance he so often took, but it was difficult when she was wiping her nose and looking more helpless than usual. She’d softened his look again.

“How in hell could you have missed it? You must have walked right by-” He cut himself short on an irritated growl and instead walked right past her. “Whatever,” he ground out. “Just keep up.” And with that he was barreling down the ship's hallway yet again, but not without a casual glance over his shoulder to ensure Bulma was trailing along for once. His footsteps fell short just a little down the hall from the medical bay. A new door was opened, revealing a refreshment room in full. Or at least, that’s what it looked like to Vegeta. It was sterile, clean, and with many compartments built into the crisp walls, surely each one for a different use.

Leaning his back on the archway of the door, Vegeta allowed the girl to step in. Nodding his head, his eyes flicked towards one of the taller containers in the room, a shower no doubt. A place to get cleaned up. Of course, the many times he’d bathed her washed into mind, but the prince wasn’t about to get his hands dirty if he didn’t need to. After all, he’d been staying out of her business, more or less, of late.

* * *

**Her POV**

He gave her an odd look. She pressed her lips together and glanced away, not caring to watch him as he stared at her so incredulously. He mumbled about her missing the bathroom, but she didn’t really care. So what? She figured she’d go see him first rather than check things out on her own. She was exhausted physically and on edge; something about having him in her presence calmed her a little bit. She thought she’d be better alone, but as time went on, she realized she was much, much better off with Vegeta. Things only seemed to go wrong when she left his eyesight. Deep down she still hated him for the things she did to her, and when she looked too long at his eyes, she started to think too much about all those memories, but… For her own safety, she felt better with him around.

She followed him as he passed her and led her down the hall, though she didn't try too hard to keep his quick pace. It seemed she didn’t need to anyway; he continuously looked back at her to make sure she was following, something she noted. How often did he bother to do that? Usually he just walked and paid no heed to her unless she spoke up. Weird. Maybe she just looked particularly pathetic. Even she was aware of how disgusting she probably looked (and definitely felt). Smelling of body odor and blood, snot running down her nose, clear signs of a sore throat with how she kept rubbing her neck…

He led her to the bathroom. She did miss it, but then again, she wasn’t exactly looking that hard. She stepped inside and took a little look around, before turning her head to face him again, with slightly furrowed brows. It was a stupid thing to request, but…

“Can you just stick around? I don’t want to shower with you or anything, but can you just… I don’t know, keep guard? It feels better if you’re around.” Just as she finished her sentence, she felt a tingle in her nose and let out a sneeze that she quickly covered with her arm. Gn… Of course, the moment she got home, she had to have gotten sick. There’s not any way she could have caught this beforehand, right? It seemed to line up, and besides, would it even be possible to catch an alien virus? She figured they’d be incompatible, honestly.

* * *

**His POV**

The moment the girl found herself inside the safety of the bathroom, Vegeta was ready to make a run for it. It wasn’t exactly like she needed him around for this, and it was even more likely that she’d scold him for watching her undress, anyhow. It was all ludicrous in his mind and he wasn’t about to stand around needlessly; the prince knew where things were going by now. Needless to say, when Bulma turned and requested he stay, Vegeta was more than a little caught by surprise.

His brows slightly raised, staring back into her blue hues. Was she serious? She hadn’t requested his presence since their first arrival back on her planet some time ago. The girl seemed to have grown out of her recurring nightmares and with it, her need for his watchfulness. He’d been aware, but growing accustom to the budding distance. Her new found independence. The creature she’d killed must have really shaken her up.

“Do I look like Raditz or Nappa?” His brow twitched right back into its crumpled glare. Though, they both must have known he’d never let either of the idiots stand post while she bathed. Still, a guard dog he was not. At least, he didn’t like thinking of himself as one so openly. But that’s what he was slowly wrapping into, wasn’t it? The reality of it hit him, grumbling. The prince slowly rested his wide shoulders back against the wall and crossed his arms, waiting for her to begin her ritual. He would stay. A part of him was even relieved to do so, feeling the tingle of being needed again, but he’d never let that part on.

It felt better when he was around. That phrase stuck with him, nagging at him while the girl busied herself. He didn’t want to acknowledge the sensation it gave him, grunting and focusing on the contents of the room around him. It was more of a locker room than anything. Standing multi-use showers made for several men at one time. Lockers lined the crisp white walls that probably housed the police officer’s personal belongings. And then there were the storage units for odds and ends, cleaning supplies and uniforms. His gaze flicked back to her at the sound of sniffling. Since when had that started?

* * *

**Her POV**

He was argumentative about staying. She raised a brow at him, standing still as a moment as he gave her snide remarks about not being Raditz or Nappa. What of it? Didn’t he usually want to keep an eye on her? Well, particularly now. So sue her if she was a little nervous. Though it seemed he eventually relented, as shown by him leaning against the wall. He was staying. …She had originally thought he’d just stand outside the door, but she supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers. He’d been better at containing himself recently, anyway. She could trust him. Couldn’t she? She eyed him for a moment longer, the feeling of memories past lingering in the back of her mind. She shook her head and turned away, to go to one of the communal sinks.

She wasn’t sure if there were any laundry machines on this ship, but she did know blood stained badly and that her clothes, underwear included, may just stand a chance if she soaked it well. So, she stripped, ignoring Vegeta the entire while (not that she was in much of the mood to care; her head was foggy and her nose felt somewhat raw from how much sniffling she was doing). She put her clothes into the sink and turned on the water, washing them about and making sure they were completely wet so they could soak in the water. Hn… Good enough. She’d figure something out later. Maybe she’d just wash them in the sink. But for the time being, she just… Wanted to shower. It’d be nice if there was a bath, but a shower was probably best for her.

She walked into one of the lines of showers and turned it on, making a gasp at the feel of the cold water smacking against her skin. It steadily warmed, thankfully, and she was left standing there, soaking it in. Her eyes closed and she sighed, though the sigh only left her in a fit of coughs. Gn– Seriously, of all the times for her to be sick? Her eyes opened again, and she looked, yet again, to Vegeta, visible over the short wall between each shower.

“How long is it going to take to get to the stupid planet? I want my stuff! I’m never leaving those stupid capsules in that dumb pod again. I didn’t go back in space so I could deal with stuff like this again…”

* * *

**His POV**

There was no context needed for Vegeta to know exactly what that look meant. They shared a glance, one that he understood regardless of his refusal to outwardly acknowledge her. Bulma wanted privacy when she stripped down. However, she seemed to do so even with him watching. That was a surprise in itself. Usually the girl was so demanding when it came to forcing him to turn his head. There was something about the newness of her trust that shook his resolve. Acting as if he couldn’t give a damn, snorting and turning his back towards her with a bad attitude, Vegeta looked away. For her sake.

It wasn’t the rushing sound of water nor the filling of a sink that turned his attention from his thoughts. It was the pathetic, raspy echo of relentless coughing that twitched his ear in her direction. Was it getting worse? Perhaps the steam had upset her lungs. That explained it, to him at least. Besides, how was he supposed to pay attention to anything other than the prime opportunity Bulma was handing him to flaunt and stroke his own ego? He just couldn’t resist.

“At least twice as long as usual, if we’re lucky,” he bit all too sarcastically. “Missing those pods you hate so much?” He sneered to himself, feeling particularly playful with his snide banter. “And that’s what you get for not being prepared.” His tone changed again to something more stern; masking any worry in his words. “Running off without a weapon like that. Idiot.” He scolded, finally turning to face the steam bellowing shower. It was then and only then he spotted her clothing and the bang-up job she was doing of soaking them in a sink.

“If you’re going to wear those damned clothes, you could at least wash them properly.” His thick brow quirked. Why in hell wasn’t she using the rooms laundry units? It was right there in the wall. This little blue earthling, she never ceased to confuse him. His crude comments cut short, his expression dulled into something deadpanned, and his heavy shoulders found their place on the wall yet again.

* * *

**Her POV**

Bulma soaked in the water, running her fingers through her hair and relishing in the feeling of all the blood, sweat, and dirt being dragged away from her body by the water hitting her skin. Her shoulder still ached horribly, and every bruise over her body begged for relief, but… Ahh, at least she wasn’t going to get worse. As long as she could get over this stupid illness she’d apparently come down with, anyway.

“It’s not like I could help it,” she huffed, her brows furrowing as she remembered what led her to this terrible position. “I couldn’t stand to look at those idiots. You refused to do anything. A-and… It was their fault this happened, anyway. Do you think the police would have grabbed me if they hadn’t made a scene? It’s their fault. I don’t want to hurt some asshole doing their job, anyway, a weapon wouldn’t help me.” She shook her head, feeling a pain inside her skull as she did so. Gn… Why’d she have to be sick?

That’s when he talked about the laundry. She gave him a puzzled look, raising an eyebrow and looking at the clothes soaking in the sink. There was… A washing machine here? It didn’t look like it! Or maybe he was just demanding she take the time out of her shower to actually try to clean them. Like hell she’d do that. She was sticky and dirty and disgusting; she wanted to be clean before she worried about anything else getting clean.

“They’re soaking. They’re bloody, and blood stains. I’m trying to get the most out of it before washing. Why, is there a washing machine in here? I’m not seeing one.” She turned her gaze to him, feeling more irritated perhaps just because she felt so sick. Her ears stuffed as the steam rushed into them, and she sniffled yet again. “…If they have a washing machine, they’ve got to have medicine, too, right?” Though it was a hit or miss whether it would help for her. For all she knew medicine aliens used could be lethal, or just do nothing at all. But maybe… If only to get her to no longer have this horrible headache…

* * *

**His POV**

The room was beginning to fill with steam like an angry sauna. It fluctuated the mingling scents that were slowly washing off of the girl’s body by tenfold. The smell of blood, sweat, grime, slime, and… Something was off, her chemical make-up didn’t hit his nose like it usually did. He grunted, blowing the steam from his nose like an animal trying to rid its nostrils of something unfamiliar. But she never smelt anything less than inviting to him.

Could she feel the arrogant look he was giving her through the warm fog? The woman made little sense to him most of the time, and arguing against a weapon was only making him bristle and the mention of his men made him seethe; ready to tell her off yet again. Then in the midst of her excessive rambling she mentioned something about medicines. Sure, he didn’t give a damn about why her clothes were soaking or her thoughts on carrying a weapon (he already knew she needed one and that was that, end of argument), but for some un-explainable reason her care always caught his attention these days, even when he didn’t notice it.

“We’re in a damn medical bay, what the hell do you think?” The sound of his footsteps led him past the soaking sink and towards the many pristine cabinets that lined the wall. Once again, his bark was worse than his bite; making his true intentions. He was looking over the various bottles and cartridges of needles and pills that were housed in the room. He so rarely required these things. Never, if he was asked. What the hell was he supposed to be looking for? Ingredients were listed but things like ‘cough’ and ‘sniffles’ weren’t on the bottles. His lip curled in frustration, Vegeta never liked feeling inferior in any type of situation.

“The washing unit is built into the wall. Wash them yourself,” he snapped, darting his eyes to the correct cabinet. There, barking orders and being in control always made him feel better. A pill bottled tossed up and down in his hand, thinking he’d found the correct one. His gaze fluttered to her once more, watching her for any signs of weakness, though it could have been mistaken for a look of caring. The thought that the pills may not suit her human anatomy never crossed his mind. These types of things were made for various species to use. What harm could it do?

* * *

**Her POV**

Did he always have to be so mean about it? Ah… She shook her head. Of course he did. Sometimes she could forget what kind of a person he could be. The kind of stuff he did. It was stupid how she could forget, and then have it all rush back to her. It still sent a shiver down her spine, and a feeling of unnerve the next time she so much as glanced at him. So instead, she focused on cleaning herself, not bothering to watch as he rifled through the cabinets. But she heard the shaking of pill bottles. …It was so odd, that he’d come from abusing her, to… …If she was anyone but Bulma, he’d probably be the same person he was, wouldn’t he?

She cleaned herself up, washing her hair and her body and getting herself completely free of the layer of dirt and mucus stuck to her skin. It took some time, but she managed to peel it off, and as soon as she once again felt clean, she turned off the shower and looked back at Vegeta. Her throat itched nearly as soon as the cold air began to seep into her lungs again. She felt like her nose was probably running, but she couldn’t tell what was mucus and what was simply the water still stuck to her skin.

“Did you find anything that looked like it’d help me?” She walked out the shower and grabbed one of the many clean, white towels hung up. She quickly wrapped it around herself and walked to Vegeta to look at the bottle he held by peering over his shoulder, her brows furrowing. It’s not exactly like they were straight-forward, they just showed what they were. Nn… She more of a technician or engineer than a chemist. “I don’t remember what kind of medicine back home they use that kind of stuff in. Do you know what it does?”

* * *

**His POV**

He didn’t flinch when the sensation of the girl’s warm breath started pouring over his shoulder. His thumb ran over the label on the bottle. The words would have read something similar to doxylamine, dextromethorphan, chlorpheniramine if in Earthling tongue. They were common products even he had seen in almost every pit-stop in the universe. Sold as remedies for ‘weaklings’ as he’d always thought it. But just as he turned, willing to shove it into her curious hand, Vegeta stopped short. Visions of shoving his fingers down her slender throat filled his mind. His grip on the pill bottle tightened and his teeth ground together. She wouldn’t be that stupid again, would she? Bulma had been doing well lately. Hell, she’d just saved her own skin. Besides, he knew he needed to trust her.

“These are usually taken by weaker species for things like coughing or sneezing.” Or whatever symptoms went on when inferior creatures got sick; he wouldn’t know. The arrogance in his thinking was seeping through his blank staring of the bottle. Like hell he’d admit he’d gotten sick that one time. Still, it was proving difficult to keep up his hard demeanor when he was sincerely trying to aid her illness. It proved to be even more difficult when he finally turned to her, flicking his gaze up to meet her own. Bulma had been correct in her thinking, this side of him was only built for her. His brows winced just for good measure, to keep his stoic nature in place.

“One pill - every few hours,” he softly commanded. “And try not to get any sicker.” He meant that last part as a jab but his demeanor and sound was a little too thoughtful to pull it off. Needing a swift exit, Vegeta tossed her the bottle and headed for clearer air. The grumble in his voice persisted all the way to the doorway. Maybe the steam in the room was fogging up his head. He suddenly felt irritable and the fresh air wafting in from the outside world was a welcome relief. So there he stood, resting a shoulder against the frame. Arms crossed, back turned, tail twitching, but listening.

* * *

**Her POV**

He was blabbering about humans being weaker. She ignored the comment, rolling her eyes as her only acknowledgement. He had a habit of doing stuff like this, didn’t he? Every time he did something nice, he had to insist on reminding everyone that no, he was still mean and tough. As if someone that rude would even bother listening to her like he did. Did he think that she was fooled by it? Did he fool himself? She kept her mouth shut about it, figuring he’d lash out if she pointed out his actions.

He handed off the pill to her and told her the vague ‘one pill every few hours.’ What’d that even mean? One every three? One every five? What was ‘a few hours’? …Of course he had to hurry off rather than give a clear answer. She took another look at the bottle, before setting it aside by the sink, where her clothes still sat, soaking in the water. She’d learned from enough time as a woman that it was best to let a bloody stain sit in water for a while before attempting to wash. It’d been a few days, but she could at least lessen the stain. Maybe it wouldn’t even be noticeable. So she let it sit for the time being, and instead focused on drying herself off.

As soon as she was dry, she tied the towel around herself once again and pulled the wet clothes out of the sink. It took her a moment, but she found the place Vegeta was talking about; the little washer built into the wall on the other side of the room. It looked fairly inconspicuous; she couldn’t blame herself for overlooking it. She put them in there and started the washer, and now that the sink was clear, she took the opportunity to both drink from it, and use it to suck down a pill. But when she was done, she was left standing with nothing to do, and only a towel to wear.

…Damn it, she really had to wear that stupid outfit Vegeta had for her, didn’t she? She let out a huff and began to comb out her hair with her fingers as she walked to the hallway, where Vegeta was standing. So he never actually left. Good, she could badger him some more.

“Hey… When you said it’d take longer than usual to get to that planet, how long are we talking about? A day? Two days? It’s not going to be that long, right? I didn’t come back to space with you just to live like I did before I got my planet back.”

* * *

**His POV**

The fresh air had done him more good than he had expected. A long drag of air left his lungs, expelling with it the unwelcome sensations that had begun plaguing him of late. Now he could gather his thoughts in order like the soldiers he imagined them as. Soldiers… That was still something gnawing on the back of his brain. Vegeta still couldn’t wait to sink his fists into his two so called loyal subjects. His tail flicked, a sure sign that his short temper was creeping towards the surface once again. It was a good thing Bulma popped her head out of the doorway when she did, or else the prince may have found himself in a whole new mess of treacherous thoughts.

“Well, how long did it take us to get this far out into space to begin with?” He quipped as soon as he turned to look at her. “A day, at most,” he finally answered. His misdirected anger settled as soon as his gaze found her. Still in a towel, searching for answers, smelling of that strange feminine blood. It wasn’t affecting him like it usually did, he realized. That, or maybe he just wasn’t giving his new found self-control enough credit. However, the ape did look somewhat offended towards her pointing out that she was living like she had before, like his captive. Was that really how she felt? To him she’d recently been elevated to the status of his men, so why was she bringing that up? His brow hardened again. He was a lost fool.

“You won't be living like that again,” he corrected sternly; almost demanding it to be factual. “Meet me in the armory when you’re finished preening yourself. At least there I can find some use for this infernal ship.” It wasn’t a demand, it wasn’t a request, but something in between. Vegeta knew better than to command anything of the feisty woman, yet the silent glance he gave her before he left did ask her to tag along for once. Not being the type to look back, the fierce man merely stormed off down the rest of the hallway.

Luckily the armory wasn’t too far. A nice sized room stocked with artillery of every kind. Emergency packs and explosive kits, survival gear and tools of the field. Military supplies, gaudy purple armor, and ammunition, only the best grade. Vegeta paused a moment to judge the sight. So military, so in order. Sure, weapons really weren’t his thing, but this place really was the only good part of this unreasonably slow hunk of junk. Surely even Bulma could find this room on this small ship. Though when she’d find him was a better question. Kami knew the woman did love to preen herself.

* * *

**Her POV**

A day. That was his answer. Though he seemed irritated, given his expression after she complained. He didn’t like her complaining, which wasn’t that odd. But the way he responded did make her raise a brow. ‘You won’t be living like that again.’ What’s that even supposed to mean? Feh. She didn’t have a bunch of clothes, she was covered in dirt just moments ago, she didn’t have proper tampons or pads, she was without any of her beauty supplies… For all she cared, her life wasn’t all that different from before. Especially given that run-in with the alien she’d killed just hours ago. …At least she’d only be stuck like this for a day. And it was better than how she was treated in the prison ship, she guessed. She huffed and watched him storm off like a baby. Something about meeting him in the armory…

Right as she was going to go back to where he’d originally set her down, she heard a beep behind her. …The clothes were done already? She turned back into the room and opened the washing machine to not only find the clothes were washed, but dried, as well. Huh, it was a two-in-one. How did they not have technology like that back at home? Maybe if more engineers were like her and her father. They didn’t really care about stuff like that, so they wouldn’t bother. Other people really did need to step up their game.

She pulled the clothes out and stripped out of the towel in order to get back in her clean clothing. But just as she was putting her panties on, she remembered tampons. Nn…. She glanced around and saw the gauze sitting where all the medicine had been, that Vegeta had rifled through. For a quick fix, she grabbed it, rolled some if it around her finger, and made a makeshift tampon. Just a day of dealing with this shit, then she’d go back to before. Just a day…

As soon as she was finished getting changed, she hurried off to go find where Vegeta’d stalked off to. The armory… The ship was small, so it wasn’t all that hard to find; hadn’t they passed it before? As she finished combing her hair out with her fingers to the best of her ability, she came up to the doorway that Vegeta stood just inside. The room was filled with all kinds of weapons, and Bulma couldn’t help but inwardly roll her eyes. She really was exhausted by violence by now. Even if she needed a weapon… It was just… Tiring. She was sick of it.

“What’d you want?”

* * *

**His POV**

Too flimsy, too bulky, a hunk of junk at best. Broken and cracked bits of blasters were strone around the armory by the time Bulma arrived. When it came to weaponry nothing seemed to stand up to Vegeta’s standards. How could it? He could put a hole in a man’s chest just by pointing at them. How were these make-shift ki-blasters supposed to compete? It put a kink in his brow to try and wrap his primal brain around needing one of these pieces of shit, as he liked to think of them. It went over his head to consider not relying solely on himself, in fact the thought of it repulsed him.

But…

His vision finally found her when she piped up about what he’d wanted from her. Was it not already blatantly obvious? His angry brow only condensed further. She needed one… Or two… He couldn’t always come when she needed him. She was such a pain... That’s why they were here. And they weren’t leaving until he was satisfied either, he’d make sure of that.

“You don’t want to live like before, right?” He bit her words back at her, catching her eye before moving restlessly between the few rows of heavy artillery that he’d previously been sizing up before she’d stepped in. A few hand guns lay scattered across a table top. She was one of them now, and they were warriors. Bulma may have been repulsed by the sight of more instruments of destruction but Vegeta was looking at it like a golden opportunity. Maybe this would give his mind a little peace. It did seem to be bothering him lately, more so than usual.

“Take it, and this time don’t leave it behind.” It was a large riffle of sorts, along with a small pistol and holster that’d be easily strapped to her body. He eyed her as he insistently ‘offered’ her the guns, giving her a once over to indicate her lack of the pistol he’d given her earlier. It was a shame he couldn’t fit more on her person; knowing her she’d probably need it. In fact, if she had a capsule on her then he’d probably force as much artillery on her as he’d wanted. Did she enjoy forcing him to be her attack dog on every beckon and whim? His lip curled. Well, like hell he’d allow her to abuse their system. The idea that Bulma was mentally straying from violence never occurred to him.

* * *

**Her POV**

He was already making a mess of things. She put her hands on her hips as she watched him, digging around for a weapon he was planning on forcing her to keep with her at all times. It’s not like she particularly hated the idea, she just… Though it was ridiculous. Did he truly think that she’d be saved by some stupid gun? He could blabber about how it’ll help her not live like she did before, but she knew the truth. It’d do nothing to any actual danger. If it was that easy to protect herself, nothing that happened to her over the past few months would have happened. …Months. That’s right, it’s only been however many months, hadn’t it? It felt so much longer. It felt like years.

He offered her a gun, and she stared at him with a pursed lip before grabbing it from him, as well as the pistol and holster. She put the holster on and put the pistol away, and as she held the rifle, she looked at him as he looked around some more. She looked back down at the rifle. Unlike the ones at home, these ones didn’t need bullets. They were to work automatically by drawing ki like someone like Vegeta could without it. He really thought this would help her? Maybe he needed to be taught just how useless it was. She already knew full well by now. So, without giving another warning, she held it properly, aimed it at Vegeta, and pulled the trigger.

A gust of ki shot out of the gun straight at him, and she watched with an irritated look as it hit him. Then she dropped the gun, and crossed her arms tightly as a show of defiance. Of course, it wouldn’t actually hurt him. It’d piss him off, but that’d just make it more likely she’d get hurt. She knew full well how things worked by now. How dare he think she was so stupid. As if she hadn’t been taught over and over just how useless it was other than to make her feel safe, when she wasn’t really. She wasn’t safe anywhere anymore. She was as safe as she could possibly be when she stuck around Vegeta’s shadow, but even then, she wasn’t really. The danger always existed. She couldn’t really protect herself.

“So, what, are you trying to stop me from demanding you at least try to protect me? You know this isn’t going to work. The only thing that’s going to mess with me is something about as strong as you, right? And just look what the gun did to you. Use your stupid brain for once, alright? It’s not like I haven’t used guns like this a million times before. They do nothing. That’s how you end up murdering so many people. Because these stupid weapons are all but useless against someone who’s a real threat. You know it, I know it.”

* * *

**His POV**

The radiant sensation of Bulma’s defiant nature was simply wafting off of her and into his direction. No, he would not look back, he wouldn’t cave to her this time. Vegeta was putting his foot down about this one, no matter the level of looks she gave him. His fingers sifted through the rows of artillery, searching for something more powerful, more fitting for the female that was destine to wear it. There had to be something in this pile of trash that would protect her. His mind swam, ignoring the clicking sound of the woman overlooking the gun in her hands.

BANG! Well, that was enough to get the prince’s attention. Vegeta’s eyes went wider than dinner plates; his glove catching the place on his arm that now sizzled with smoke. She… That bitch fucking shot him! He turned swiftly, his mouth as ajar as his thoughts and his brow as horrible as the growl coming from his throat. She was lucky he hadn’t killed her right then and there, that he hadn’t instinctually retaliated! He had reflexes; didn’t she know?! Of course she knew, knew well enough to know that he wouldn’t hurt her, that that fact alone was becoming ingrained into his instincts, too. His angry expression turned horribly deadpanned.

“You moron! That’s nothing to do with it!” He roared, stepping closer with a snarl akin to an angry bear, finally meeting her defiant glare. Is that what she thought, that he was trying to get out of protecting her? His lip twitched; gaze traveling down to the sizzling mark on his shoulder. The blast hadn’t even torn through his blue suit. It was a testament to the woman’s ingenious engineering and yet also a complete blow to his point of forcing her to carry a weapon. His damned expression dropped, as did his head. The rifle lay at their feet like a rip between them.

He picked up the rifle; staring at her. She must have known he knew she was right. But what the fuck was he supposed to tell her? How could he tell her it’d just ease his mind? He just couldn’t admit that he had the ability to fail her yet again. But she was right, she’d made her point loud and clear, and he couldn’t deny it. Even if she took the damned gun it wouldn’t stop his mind now. He’d still be aware of just how unsafe she was without his shadow looming over her. But what did he do rather than admit he was wrong? He lowered his gaze, his stubbornness kicking in, and settled on shoving the rifle against her chest. Muttering, “Will you just take the damn thing.”

* * *

**Her POV**

His reaction was to be expected. Incredibly angered, but otherwise? Nothing. He didn’t hurt her at all. He just yelled at her. She looked away, rolling her eyes as he spoke. Nothing to do with it? Bullshit. It was useless; there was no point in him trying to shrug off protecting her by giving her some stupid gun. It didn’t do any good, so why should she have to lug it around? But there he went and picked the rifle up again, and he tried to push it into her hands again. Her arms stayed crossed, and after a moment, her head turned to look at him again. Why was he still insisting? This was stupid.

“I don’t want to lug that thing around with me. It’s bulky and hard to use anyway.” She took a step back from him, emphasizing her point- she would not be taking it. Again, she waited a second as she thought before continuing, “I’ll keep the stupid pistol you gave me. But that’s all.” At least it was small and easy to carry. It could help her, even if she’d still need protection otherwise. But it was something, she guessed. Better than that rifle; that thing was probably far more likely to slow her down and get her in more danger, if she had to take a guess. She wouldn’t bother risking it.

“…Anyway,” She shifted her weight, trying to move on from the conversation as she looked around the room at all the weapons. All essentially useless against the aliens she typically came across. She wondered if it’d even be possible to come up with a weapon that she could use against a being like Vegeta. “Is there anything to even do around here besides twiddle our thumbs? I don’t want to watch you look through a bunch of weapons and try to force me to carry them all. Is there anything more interesting to do here than sleep?” She’d already spent days locked away with nothing to do but try to avoid eye contact with more terrifying aliens. So sue her for wanting some entertainment.

“They’ve got to have something to do on here, right? A TV? Cards? Something. I’m bored.” Of course, she expected Vegeta to cater to her whims. But maybe he was bored too. It couldn’t be very exciting, constantly having to look after her like he did. It wasn’t particularly exciting for her either- she felt like some kind of a baby that needed to be watched at all times. Even moreso now that she was sick, though she’d found the medication seemed to be working fairly fast.

* * *

**His POV**

She wouldn’t take it, not even to appease him. Vegeta’s grip on the gun’s barrel withered it to less than nothing. His anger shot the crumpled gun back towards the floor. Fine, fine! She’d be wanting that gun sooner than later, he just knew it. Let her pine for it then. Glaring blue. He knew the moment she took a step back that there was no way he’d be forcing yet another weapon on her, thus was more than glad when she attempted to change the subject. He really did hate it when the uneasy silence mocked him for yet another stare down that he’d inevitably lost. At least she’d kept the pistol.

“Oh, so now the princess is bored?” He made sure to put as much sarcastic emphasis on princess as possible. He still wasn’t finished using that term now that he’d learned her earthly wanna-be title. But as irritated as he was, she… She had a point. The anger hissing through his teeth simmered, and he caught her gaze with a new look; a look much more willing to compromise and think seriously. There had to be something on this deck that kept the officers from losing their minds. Come to think of it, the prince was sure he’d passed a recreational room or two on his prior killing spree through the ship.

His head tilted, just enough to ask her to follow. Vegeta wasn’t risking talking to her again. Oh no, every time he opened his mouth since she’d woken back up, he’d regretted it. He moved swiftly down the long hall, not wanting to give her the opportunity to force him to carry her. That was the last thing he wanted at the time. Past the bunk rooms and the small galley, past the toiletries and locker room, he finally found it. A small but useful place to pass the time equipped with everything from sofas and screens to exercise machinery. Well, if one knew how to use it that is. Everything worked similarly to the damned washing machine that had to be pried from the wall. Everything had to be activated. There was sure to be many gems just waiting to be found here.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA I almost forgot again!! It's hard getting back into the schedule.  
> I'm glad it's gotten traction so quickly again. I hope you guys continue to be entertained. I even got someone to come to me and ask for permission to translate it to Spanish! :) Hearing stuff like that is great, man!
> 
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>    
> 


	5. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back with Vegeta, Bulma would assume things would be fine. If not for betrayal.
> 
>   
> 

**Her POV**

“So what if I’m bored? It’s boring listening to you blabber about how I need guns,” she huffed, though he seemed to follow through. He did tend to do that, didn’t he? He’d complain, but always do exactly as she asked of him. She raised a brow at him, silent about the matter as she followed him down the hall at his gestured request. It’s not like him doing as she asked was anything near surprising, given he’s done it so long, but in the back of her mind every now and then, she still thought back to all the things he’d previously done to her. Was he just still making up for it? …How long ago was it that Nappa and Raditz mumbled to each other while they thought Bulma was sleep, about him trying to ‘court’ her into being a mate? She’d essentially accepted everything he tried doing for her, letting him bend over backward for her… But she had to wonder as she stared at the back of his head. …Her nose wrinkled as the idea of her having become his ‘mate’ sunk into her head. She tossed the thought away and walked into the room he led her to.

It took her a second to realize what it was. There were TVs mounted on the wall, but the rest of it were just outlines in the wall from where they came out. A small screen where she’d figure a light switch would usually be caught her attention. With a poke, everything came popping out of the wall or floor; sofas, exercise bikes, and so on. Somewhat like capsule technology might, though still much different, since it seemed that the objects just broke down rather than being turned into nothing but a bunch of atoms. Interesting.

It was a really weird room; not something she really expected in a police ship. Though at the same time, she guessed they had to keep themselves busy as well, and it was best to keep themselves busy while exercising. She rubbed her chin in thought, and glanced over at the TV. She wasn’t planning on doing exercising; her body still ached from all it’d gone through earlier, even if the shower did help ease her muscles and soothe her skin. She made her way over to it, looking around for a remote as she mumbled to herself.

“Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve really bothered to watch alien television much…”

* * *

**His POV**

As to be expected, Vegeta made a beeline for the weight equipment as soon as it popped up out of the floor and presented itself. He did need a distraction. There were too many things trying to work their way back into his steely mind, and a nice training session did usually do the trick for him. However… After one glance around at the equipment, the Saiyan's hopes for a workout dropped. This shit was useless. The treadmill would never keep up with him, the heavy bag would surely explode before he could throw a punch, and the ‘weights’ were laughable. If anything, he’d break them. A Saiyan infant would have better use for these ‘training machines’ than anyone else. His lip curled. Great, just great. Just what was he supposed to do with himself in the meantime now?

Slowly, pathetically, he took the pearly armor from his body and set it aside. He wouldn’t be needing it in here. The click of a screen turning on perked his interest. He circled the sofa Bulma had planted herself like a shark; first from behind, then slowly around, not caring if he was blocking the view. Well, it certainly wasn’t the distraction he’d had in mind but he supposed it would do. It was better than accidentally sending a dumbbell through the flooring and hoping it didn’t tear through the ship. After a quick glance, he sat down beside her. Just what the fuck was she watching anyhow? It didn’t matter, it looked boring, so naturally he swiped the remote in one quick swoop.

“I’ve never seen the appeal,” he huffed. “What’s the point when you could be doing other things.” Still, that didn’t stop him from channel surfing the moment he got that remote into his gloved hand. Click. A pair of colorful aliens with no eyes but a lot of tentacles coming from their heads screeching at one another. Click. A large creature walking into a room and suddenly vomiting acid onto a table, followed by the question of, “Does this ever happen to you? If so, try new Florb-Be-Gone! Get rid of all those pesky Florbs in your home!”.

Click. The next channel was hard to make out at first glance. It even had Vegeta pausing for a moment to try and figure out exactly what he was witnessing. His eye twitched and his head tilted. On the screen was blue and red flesh, and a lot of it. It looked like something akin to a blue whale being engorged by a giant red blob. There was a line of orifices opening and closing down the belly of the whale creature, opening and closing. Opening and closing. The red gelatinous kept trying to poke itself into the openings before the two fleshy blobs continued to moan and wrestle with one another. Ah, he knew what this was now, it was porn.

* * *

**Her POV**

She sat down comfortably on the couch as soon as she found the remote. When she turned the TV on, was set at some documentary; something about a single planet in particular. The planet from space looked red with hints of lightly tanned browns, something of a complete contrast to Earth. The footage from inside the planet was fairly predictable; all desert. The soil itself looked almost reddish in color. But the more interesting thing was the topic that was being discussed over the footage, narrated by a soothing voice-over.

The planet may not be peaceful, but it has been left undisturbed by outsiders. The people there are left alone, as ki does not seem to work once on this planet. Scientists still speculate on why this is. Perhaps any left-over energy exerted by an individual is sucked into the planet’s atmosphere, or the strong magnetic pull of the planet somehow–

In a moment’s notice, Vegeta whipped the remote from her grasp and begun flipping channels. Bulma opened her mouth to complain, but… Hn. What did she care? It was just a documentary, there’d probably be something more interesting on. She blew a breath out her nose and leaned back onto the couch, simply watching as the channels went by. She didn’t understand the vast majority of it. Florb? There were plenty of tentacled beings, giving her a disturbing reminder of what she’d gone through not too long ago. Most of it had lots of talking and music playing in the background, but when Vegeta switched to a certain channel, it felt unnervingly silent. He stopped to watch the channel, and the longer it went on, the more Bulma’s face contorted.

The sound of moaning put a pit in her stomach. While it may not be the kind of sex a human would understand, it was easy enough for her to tell. She’d seen enough of the universe. The noises… Not just the moans, but the wet, moist movements of flesh moving against each other. She could feel the little, light hairs on her skin raise. The desperate movements were all the same. Back and forth, in and out, gasp and sigh… She couldn’t say anything, but she felt sicker the more she stared. She wished she could look away, turn her ears off. But it felt like she couldn’t. Somehow, she was stuck in place, staring with wide eyes as she felt stomach acid sting the inside of her throat, threatening to force her to puke. It reminded her of Zarbon’s orgies. She was certain she’d seen sex like this at least once before. Attempted on her maybe? She tried not to think about that stuff, so she couldn’t (or wouldn’t) recall.

She gagged. Bile poured into the back of her throat, and she was snapped out of her trance. She gulped it down and shivered, still feeling the leftover burning. She grabbed Vegeta’s arm with all the strength she could muster, the moaning still assaulting her ears.

“Change it.”

* * *

**His POV**

Boring, all of it was boring. This is why Vegeta rarely cared to watch television. During his short time on Earth he’d sat through a few random programmings, but nothing that he could really recall. It made sitting by the woman fairly reminiscent. Even if they were now watching porn. Kami, what species were those blob creatures even? Vegeta was sure he’d seen this act before, probably in a brothel no doubt. Had he ever partaken in it? Not that he could remember, or perhaps he’d never cared enough in the first place to create said memory. But just as it was getting good, he felt a shift in the air. The stench of fear and the electricity of panic.

Just then, biting fingernails lunged for his arm. Bulma looked like she was about to pass out or puke - probably both. Change it? He knew sex was a touchy subject for her but was a little thing like a program getting to her? Then he noticed the small hairs on her skin standing straight; it caught him off guard at first, like a strange phenomenon he’d thought he’d only witness in his own people. He knew what that body language meant; she must have felt like jumping out of her own skin. Her fear alerted him. His anger-stricken confusion was ripe on his face, but Vegeta wasn’t one to argue, not about something like this.

Alright, alright! See? I changed it.” He said with harsh concern. Lifting his arm from her grip, Vegeta brushed his hand past her goosebumped skin for a little inspection, before resting his arm over the back of the sofa just behind her. It was him being partly protective, and half trying to just get his arm out of her reach. He shifted in his spot, his face forward, trying to get comfortable again. What had the television landed on? Ah, just a news broadcast. And oh look, the prison barge Bulma had successfully escaped from after killing a monster was the latest news. Its smoking remains was left to drift through space now, surrounded by police cruisers and a cleanup crew.

Click. Next was a cooking show. Bowls and knives were scattered over a counter-top, only the ogre looking host was growling rather than forming words and had a live creature in its grip. It started strangling the poor squawking thing right there on television. Vegeta’s gaze rolled over, glancing at Bulma. Perhaps… Not that program. Click. A map of the known universe with an alien pointing and talking about each of the galaxies. Click. An aerobics instructor with eight legs. Click. A nature show featuring a gazelle-creature ripping the flesh off of a reptile. Click. A soap-opera in the middle of a gripping scene. A spotted alien with giant lips caught onto the clothing of much bigger, grey alien. They were locked in the perils of love, and the big lipped, obviously female alien was trying to keep her man from turning away. She was pouring her little alien heart out.

Click. It was dark, and there were a lot of flashlights and galactic policemen surrounding a thug that’d been thrown to the ground. The thug in question, a centipede, and he wasn’t going quietly. “Man, I can’t do time, man. I’ve got 600 kids!” Argued the centipede. The policemen then searched his house, a giant hive. Inside were giant larvae, everywhere. On the walls, on the upturned sofa. One officer retrieved a bag of pink glittery dust from a couch cushion for the camera man to zoom in on. “Yep, there it is, grade A zoop.”

Finally, thought Vegeta, some good fucking television.

* * *

**Her POV**

He changed it. Told her that he did, concern filling his tone. She glanced away, toward the back of the couch that he then rested his arm on. He just went back to flipping channels. The back of her throat still burned, and her stomach still flopped. It didn’t help what he turned it to. She could hear the aliens, speaking in the typical alien language, about the recent catastrophe that happened on a space ship transporting prisoners to where they could be tried and convicted. She didn’t need to look to know what it was about. There was at least no mention of any escapes; just that the Galactic Patrol was raising a big enough group of people to go in and investigate the potentially dangerous situation.

…She closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a breath. It was fine, wasn’t it? Nothing was happening to her here. They were just sitting on a couch together, alone. Watching television. She was fine… Even with the news, she was with Vegeta, nothing would happen to her now even if someone did find out she’d escaped from a jail cell. Her eyes opened again, and they lingered uselessly on his arm for a moment longer before she turned herself back over to face the screen again. Vegeta had stopped at some show that looked pretty similar to the shows on Earth. It followed Galactic Patrolmen, rounding up criminals. Similar to cop shows…

She could feel Vegeta shift to get more comfortable, clearly settling on this channel. Her nose wrinkled as she watched. It was better than the porn, but… What the hell was with these people? Zoop? Six hundred kids…? They had the centipede on the ground, held by two different officers as they handcuffed his many little legs and explained the situation to him. Look, you can’t just be doing this stuff around your kids, we have to take you down and get this stuff sorted out, alright? And in the meanwhile, the supposedly six hundred larvae were being packed up to be kept somewhere for safe keeping, probably. It was a weird sight.

She looked back at Vegeta, her brow raising. He really watched this stuff for fun?

“Do you even know what’s going on with this show?” Geeze, she asked for entertainment, and this is what she got? Rgh… At least with those pods, she was just able to fall asleep. Somehow the more entertainment only made things more boring. She could feel her brain cells dying off. Then again, though, she figured Vegeta may start complaining if she decided she wanted to do something different now. She pursed her lips and looked away again, the bile in the back of her throat still reminding her of her episode from just a short moment ago. …Though she was sure there probably wasn’t even anything good to eat around here. Even though it hadn’t even been a full week since she’d been away from home, somehow she’d ended up more homesick than ever. As if she hadn’t decided to go back into space for a reason. She just missed her mom’s lemonade. It wouldn’t be so bad if she at least had a damn capsule house to cook things for herself in! No, she had to be stranded here.

She slunk back further into the sofa, crossing her arms tightly as she stared at the screen. The centipede had escaped the grip of the two patrolmen and had begun to slither away, a shaky camera following as the two men ran after him. Really, Vegeta just… Watched this for fun, huh?

* * *

**His POV**

‘Fun’ wasn’t exactly how he’d describe it, but the galactic police show was interesting enough. It was strange to see someone actually get caught by these dumb asses in uniform. Just how weak were the masses? No wonder the police never really tried coming after him unless he went looking for it. They’d probably leave him alone now that he was yet again an escaped convict. His gaze grazed back to the woman tucked against the cushion beside him. She was safe now too, as long as she did indeed stick with him. It looked like she’d calmed down again, good.

“Of course,” he answered her. “That’s one of the most expensive drugs on the market. It’s illegal on some planets. Those idiots will probably inhale it rather than confiscate it. Everyone wants it.” He couldn’t believe he was explaining things, but there he was, examining whatever was flickering across the screen for her. Answering any frivolous inquiries, she may have had as he continued to watch cops beat black and green blood out of punks, or anything else he flipped to. Maybe it was his turn to try and create a distraction, something to bring back the norm. He’d learned from the best after all.

It didn’t take too long after that to finally reach the planet they’d left behind just a few days ago. The planet of sand and floating city bubbles, populated by insects. However, Vegeta had no intentions of landing anywhere near the hive-like cities. The police ship touched down just a few yards from where the pods had landed. Well, pod. There was only one round orb sitting in the sweltering sand. There was little more than wind swept craters where the other two once sat. Vegeta’s body went ridged as soon as he started down the police ship’s ramp. He knew it, he’d known he’d come to find this. Nappa and Raditz had deserted him.

“Get to the pod,” he looked back at Bulma, whom he was sure had followed him. “We don’t have time to lose.” He didn’t feel like explaining this mess, but he doubted he’d have to anyhow. The earthling was sharp, surely she could tell what this was aiming towards. A potential mutiny. At the very least the two other Saiyans had already ventured onto their next mission. That’s where they’d head next, too. Vegeta’s gloved hand slid smoothly over his loyal pod. It was so much more elegant and sophisticated than that barrel of bolts he’d just had to ride in. The pod door hissed open at his command and the Saiyan took his seat, readying for takeoff whenever Bulma joined him.

* * *

**Her POV**

They were back on the planet in around a day, just as he’d said. It was an extremely boring one, but at least she was safe. And when they arrived back on the planet– That’s when things began to make her nervous. He went straight to where he’d left the pods, and when they walked out of the ship, greeted unhappily by the burning heat of the desert air, there was only one pod. She thought maybe Nappa and Raditz were elsewhere, helping look for her. But the look on Vegeta’s face said otherwise. His body was taut, and his tone was stern as he gave her the command to get in the pod. So, the idiots had left him? She raised a brow and did as he said without complaining, unsure of what would be happening next. …At the very least–

Maybe she’d finally get to witness their deaths.

She felt horrible for reveling in the pleasure of the thought, not because she thought they deserved to live, but because she felt they’d ruined her so much she’d be happy about someone dying. As she sat down between Vegeta’s legs for the first time in days, ready to take off, she stared elsewhere. They’d really fucked her up, hadn’t they? …Even more of a reason to be happy of their deaths. She’d get to make sure they wouldn’t fuck up anyone else. She didn’t say anything to Vegeta about it. She just silently mused on the thought as they lifted off into the air again. It wasn’t until they were well into space that she pushed herself off onto the foot area and looked up at Vegeta.

“Can you even tell where they went? Now that I think of it, they’ve always just been able to tell where you’re going, and you somehow found me on that one planet when I managed to get away with your pod. There’s a tracking device or something in here?”

* * *

**His POV**

They’d left him. It was all Vegeta could think about as the pod raced back through the depths of space. Those traitors. They’d either kept with Saiyan tradition and gone on without him and onto the next mission. Or they’d seized their opportunity and chosen a new leader behind his back. The prince had a hunch it was the latter. He’d gotten busted by the cops before, especially in his younger years, and they’d stuck together. They’d abandoned their prince. Well, one in particular, he knew that much. Raditz was a follower. This had to be Nappa’s doing. Not that he wasn’t already planning on busting the shit out of Raditz for tagging along (not that he had a choice, Vegeta was aware of that too but didn’t care).

“What?” His voice bit out, startled by Bulma’s voice cutting the silence. “Yes, of course there’s a tracking device. The three pods are connected. The co-ordinance of each of the pods is always on display. Those two bumbling idiots don’t have much longer to live,” he steamed. “Did they really think-” Just then a beeping light started flashing on the control panel. It wasn’t the landing display; this was something much more panicked. Another flashing began, followed by the ship turbulently shaking. Something was wrong, something was terribly, horribly wrong.

“Bulma,” he insisted, expecting her to know to crawl into his lap by now. If he didn’t get the ship under control, this couldn’t end well. The dim cabin light went off, it instantly became chilled. Damn, there was a good chance the oxygen supply was cut off too if the life support systems were failing. How, how could this be happening?! The control panel kept blinking in and out of life, despite anything he tried punching into it. They’d have to make an emergency landing… There was only one speck of dirt nearby. Well, it was better than suffocating in space. So, like a dying asteroid, they headed straight for it.

Emergency… Crash landing. There was no way this was going to end lightly. Each bump ripped away another layer of the pods protective skin. The landing systems had never kicked in. They were going too fast, too fast! Even for a Saiyan, for anything to slow it down now! It was all Vegeta could do to grab the fragile earthling up into his arms and hope he could slow himself down in time to hit the ground without too much damage. But the heat, it was getting intense. They… They were on fire. And then it happened, the pod itself began to break apart.

The strength of a prince’s ki verses the stamina of an object moving faster than the speed of light. Nothing he couldn’t handle, right? Wrong. The moment the pod broke through the planet's atmosphere, Vegeta felt as if he were the one on fire. His ki lit up like a protective flame, streaking them across the sky like a blue comet. He held her tight, more protectively than he’d ever dared to show before. There was no way he could let her delicate body succumb to the fatalities of a fall. They were slowing down, finally, but the contact with the ground shredded his armor away from his back. The sound of tearing earth surrounding them. His body dug a trench across the rocky terrain, his left shoulder taking the brunt of the impact, but nothing could keep him from letting go of the girl tucked into his hold. If she was still alive…

* * *

**Her POV**

She listened as he explained, understanding now how it was that he could so easily track her. That made sense. She turned her head away to look out the pod as they drifted through space. Vegeta was definitely going to kill them, by the way he was muttering. It was good they were so stupid that they’d betray him, she supposed. But just as she relished in the idea, the control panel started beeping and flashing. She glanced over at it, raising a brow. They were that close already? No, it didn’t usually start flashing this early– That’s when the pod started shaking. Of all the times she’d ridden in this thing, that was new. She didn’t need to be told to get back in Vegeta’s lap, ready for a rough landing. But it seemed things were getting even worse than that. The lights just… Shut off. Through the cracks of the pod’s door, she could feel cold air seeping in.

Just as quickly as things were becoming cold, suddenly everything got hot. They started going faster down to some random planet’s surface, shaking and swirling all the time in the air, completely uncontrolled by the pod’s engines. It’s not as if Bulma was sure what to do, but she knew enough of what was happening to be sure they were going to die unless Vegeta pulled off some Superman-esc crap. Hell, maybe she would just die. Goddamn it, nothing good could ever happen to her, could it?! She grabbed onto Vegeta’s arms for leverage, pressing her nails into his skin at the realization that she wouldn’t see those two idiots get murdered. Goddamn it, goddamn it, goddamn it!

Vegeta seemed to have another idea, though. As the pod began to break apart, they were sent flying in a different direction than the bulk of the rest of the pod. He held her tightly, trying his best to protect her by using what seemed to be all his ki. Either way, she felt like she was burning. He seemed as if he was trying to slow them down, but she could feel the G-forces still hitting her like bricks, even with his body protecting her. She couldn’t see how close they were to the ground, given she was staring up at the sky, protected by Vegeta’s arms from any fall, so when they finally smacked into the rocky exterior of a mountain, she was met with all but her heart leaping out of her chest in surprise.

They fell so hard they bounced at first, to which Vegeta’s again took the bulk of the damage, though she felt it radiate through her own body. Then they skidded down the mountain, and somewhere along the way, they began to roll. At some point, Vegeta let go of her with enough force to stop the force of her roll downward, though instead she rolled to the side. She scraped her under arms as she kept them up, trying to defend her face until she slowed down enough to grab the mountainside. As soon as she’d managed to stop, she rested her hip on the slope, and watched him continue to hurdle downward. Gn… She looked up at the sky, furrowing her brows. Three moons close enough to be visible during the day, and one white dwarf of a sun that covered the majority of the sky. It was lucky they could breathe this planet’s air. Her body ached from the fall, though it seemed nothing was broken. She was mostly battered already from fighting in the ship before Vegeta found her, with that tentacle monster.

She began to skid down the mountain’s slope, controlled and slow, following the deep path in the rock that showed where Vegeta had fallen. Could a Saiyan be killed by a fall like that? It’d be hard to tell. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hoped so. They seemed like gods, almost, with how immortal they were. The idea that they could be killed from too hard of a fall would be a comfort to her. She had to remind herself of how dangerous the world was without some protection to get her to stop thinking about it, at least for the time being. Ahh– There he was. Laying at the base of the mountain, up against a rock. Not moving, and looking bloody. As she neared the end, she began to hurry down the slope rather than simply slide. She reached him, and looked him over. Not with all the fights she’d ever seen him have, did he ever look this bad.

“Vegeta? Hey, Vegeta…” Was he still alive?

* * *

**His POV**

It seemed to have taken forever for his body to slide to a halt. Past jagged rock and gavel, his hard body had barreled through sheer cliff and rugged bolder. Maybe it was best he’d lost Bulma somewhere along the tumble down the mountain side; not only was he losing control, he was losing his grip on consciousness, too. Gain control, gain control, those were his final thoughts before everything went black. Vegeta never felt his body find its resting place. With his face pointed to the sky, his brutalized back sunk into the soil. The silt and dust that’d shifted down the mountain face with him finally began to settle. He wasn’t moving, but the loose dirt around him began to turn a dark, muddied red from his pooling blood.

His back as well as left side had sustained the majority of the damage. The white armor that’d plated his spine had been completely torn from his body the moment they made their first impact with the planet, leaving little more than the front piece Bulma had been pressed to during the decent. The hardy muscle and skin of his shoulder blades and hips had been the only barrier between them and the unforgiving mountain. That’s where the soaking of his blood must have been coming from. His back had been grated raw.

His left shoulder and arm were completely exposed; his once perfect blue suit torn away. And Kami, did his arm look bad. It was no longer a golden tan, but black and purple and ripped apart. It had taken a beating. The way it lay twisted in the dirt meant it had to have been broken. The budding bruises of his left side bloomed all the way down his leg. His pants torn, tattered, and he was missing a boot. But even worse still, was the sight of his slumped over face.

The Saiyan was not only unconscious, but knocking on death’s door. The uneven lifting of his chest showed it. Sticky red was running from his scalp, caking his dirty face in his own blood. The turbulent blows to the head had undoubtedly given even his thick skull a concussion. The angle that his head had landed against the rock probably wasn’t helping, and only aiding in cutting off his breathing. A terrible, un-honorable way to die, if he had known about it. It wasn’t a worthy foe or even a chance strike in battle that’d taken down the mighty prince. He lay there in a dying heap, bested by the powers of nature.

* * *

**Her POV**

There was blood around him seeping into the soil and between the rocks, and she could see a bone protruding from his arm. Through all the fights he’d seen him have, she’d never seen him in this terrible of a condition. She stared down at him. Was he… Dead? He looked like it at first. He didn’t respond to her calling his name. But then she noticed his chest was slowly and unevenly raising and falling. …He was breathing, and thus he was alive, if only just for a little while.

…She expected to feel something, in all honesty. She wasn’t sure why. She thought she’d gotten attached to him in some sense by now. She thought she’d at least feel some kind of pity for him. But instead, she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. She stared down at him, her brows furrowing slightly. This man had been her abuser for how long? Her captor… He’d raped her, and allowed her to be raped. He killed everyone she loved, even if he later helped her bring them back to life in an attempt to atone for his sins. He followed her to the ends of the universe numerous times, just out of an obsession for her. He never seemed to want to leave her alone. But at the same time, she didn’t feel happy. She didn’t feel relief.

She just felt nothing.

She squatted down to stare at him as he gasped. She wondered if he would make it through this if left to his own devices. He certainly looked like he’d be dying soon, but Saiyans proved to be nigh-immortal in her experience. …But she could kill him now, couldn’t she? A glance down proved she’d lost her gun in the fall, but she could at least… Stick her fingers in his eye sockets, like she’d done for Nappa. But keep going. Puncture both eyes and try her hardest to reach his brain. She could do that now. There was nothing to stop her.

But if she were to do that, what’d lie for her? She wouldn’t see Raditz and Nappa’s deaths. She’d be left to fend for herself, and she realized what kind of a hell that was when she was imprisoned. God help her if Raditz and Nappa ever decided to come back to Earth to wreak havoc again. Yamcha’d proven himself stronger than Raditz by now, but… Nappa? She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t be sure of the strength of her friends anymore, after what happened. … She turned her head to look around. There was a cave entrance nearby, just thirty or so feet to the right of them.

She got up again and pulled him forward so he’d slump over. Technically speaking, you shouldn’t move someone this badly hurt. But she couldn’t just leave him there. Besides, after this she could leave him in a semi-protected area while she went to go look for the pod. She’d be damned if she was leaving all her stuff behind. It was already enough the moron had to ruin the suit and clothing she’d made for him. It could survive a ki blast from that gun, but it wasn’t an astronaut suit, of course it wouldn’t survive a fall like this, so fast they seemed to be on fire.

She looped her arms under his and across his chest, and began to drag him. She dragged him all the way to the cave, and laid him on his back near the wall. Hopefully there wasn’t anything to eat him here. She could probably help him with the stuff in her capsule house, but he’d have to wait for her to find the pod and come back.

She stared at his mangled body for a moment longer, and then headed out.

* * *

**His POV**

He was still on fire. In his mind eye, the flames had never gone out. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how he twisted or turned or attempted to pat the flames out, they just kept licking at his skin; burning into his flesh until their wicked tongues were wrapping around his very bones. His flesh of his back was gone as far as he could tell, fallen away in chard hunks in order to let the fire sink into his skeletal system. Everything burned, it burned beyond reason. He must have burned up during entry, that’s it. This must have been what hell felt like. That’s what this must have been. He must have finally made it to hell.

Pain, the likes he’d never experienced before. The electric fire seared through his entire frame so badly that he wanted to tear his very skin off. Particularly his arm, he’d never felt pain like that. Nothing in his memory bank of battle wounds could contest to this. His gaze followed the dancing flames down his left arm, only to be horrified by what was causing the excruciating sensation. Worms, maggots, they were woven into his dead flesh. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest at the sight, so disgusted that he could feel bile rise in his throat. He could feel them eating away at the bands of his nervous system. Their mouths like acid chewing through the sensitive exposed cords.

His heart was pounding with a new panic, scratching aimlessly at his arm to try to rid himself of the disgusting sight; unknowing how to get himself out of this mess. He tried flying, but began falling instead. His entire being felt weak, powerless, as if every drop of ki had been drained from his body (which it had). Falling, falling, now that was a sensation he could recognize. It was the last thing he remembered. Then, splash. Water? No, it was blood. Purified and floating with corpses. He could taste their decomposition whenever he moved, splashing helplessly in the now that he’d lost control over his left side. These bodies, he’d seen them somewhere before. Mounds of them, endless in every direction. Bloated body parts and floating heads of every species. He could feel the slick, slimy mountains of them under his foot whenever he kicked, trying to keep his head above the dark liquid.

Why, who? Then he knew. They were the left overs of his many massacres. He’d been sent to rot with them. He was one of them now. Women, men, children. It’d never mattered. One head in particular was bobbing too close for comfort. The battered skull of a young child, its mandible missing so it appeared to be forever screaming. He could have sworn it still had living eyes. It wouldn’t stop staring at him. He didn’t care, he never cared! Like now he’d care now that he was dead! Damn them all! He was the prince, the prince of all Saiyans! He fought the waters, thrashing and summoning his strength to get him anywhere but there. But then the mounds of bodies began to lift, bubble, move, until he was being lifted into the air.

“All hail Vegeta! The exiled Prince of the Saiyans!” The roar of cheering was coming from beneath him. The corpses were no longer those of his victims, but of his people. Their dead and mangled bodies were lifting him on high, mocking him, disgracing him. No, no! He was still the Prince! The Prince of all Saiyans! He just had to kill Nappa and Raditz for deserting him, the title was still rightfully his own! He couldn’t die yet, he still had to regain his place! But that didn’t stop the march of corpses from singing his demise. The flames were back, creeping in from all sides. He could feel the heat, the temperature rising, until all he could see was that horrible flickering color.

Some Prince he’d been, he could hear them mutter. He’d ravaged one planet after the next for profit, never claiming one for his own. He wasn’t fit to be their royal. He wasn’t worthy of carrying their warrior’s mantel. “I am your prince, put me down!” He’d contest, but they weren’t following orders. Then he saw where they were taking him. A bonfire built just for him. He knew he could feel the burning over his body again. “Let me help you with that,” he heard a voice sound. It was Nappa, only he wasn’t helping, he was just there to rip Vegeta’s left arm completely off. Traitor, traitor! The arm was skewered through a pike and given to the masses to parade around with. Next was his legs. He witnessed his own body being ripped apart. Could feel it. All the while feeling more helpless than ever.

Like an out of body experience, he watched as his head was shoved onto a pike last. It was passed to a girl, a girl who was smiling brightly at the new gift. She swirled and cheered, her bright blue eyes gleefully watching up at the dancing head among the flames. He knew it was Bulma, but he felt no sense of betrayal. It was more relief. He’d known this is how she should feel about him. She had every right to. He’d do the same if given her place. He deserved it, and if anyone deserved to be his tormentor, it was her. He felt no treason towards her. Emptiness took over. Then, something began to burn at his neck. What was going on now? His good hand ripped at his throat, trying to breathe. Gasping, until finally his eyes shot open and his mouth sucked in a large breath. He was alive after all.

* * *

**Her POV**

She headed off, unsure of where to even start. She wasn’t much of a climber, even with how gentle a great deal of the mountain’s slope was. …It probably would have toppled down somewhere, right? Nn… She figured she could just make her way around the base to scout for the stupid pod. So that’s what she did, keeping her eyes both forward and upward to make sure she wouldn’t just pass it if it happened to be up on the mountain somewhere that was visible for her.

She kept walking and walking, unable to find it. First ten minutes passed, then twenty minutes., then thirty… It had to have been forty minutes or so, and Bulma began to wonder if Vegeta’d be dead when she returned. But then she found the damn thing. Sitting in a large crater a few feet up the slope of the mountain. Look like she had to climb… She let out an irritated huff and started pulling herself up, eyes focused on her target. It took her a little bit, but she managed to get up to the crater. Thankfully, she could get into the pod from here, with the door having been ripped off its hinges at some point. Everything was still in the pod and in alright condition, surprisingly. For the most part.

She rifled through it for a while, trying to pick up as many capsules as she could. She shoveled as much as she could in her pockets and fists, and then made an attempt to push the pod out of the crater, wondering if she could just… Roll it to the cave. It didn’t take much for her to realize that, no, she was nowhere near strong enough to do that. So, she just hurried off back to the cave. She could have sworn she saw something staring at her as she left, but passed it off.

With an extra pep in her step, it took her only around twenty minutes to get back. He was still lying there, but his chest was still moving, so clearly, he was alive. Even in a case like this, she supposed Saiyans were still more hardy than humans. There was no way a human would survive something like this. She dropped down all the capsules on the cave floor and looked through them, taking only a moment till she found the one she wanted, with the correct number.

She pressed the button and threw it, thankful that the cave was large enough for it. A capsule house popped out of the capsule, and Bulma glanced down at Vegeta for a bit. … Hell, he could die like that, and he was still bleeding. She wouldn’t waste time bringing him back in and then have to pull him back out and clean up all the blood. So instead, she just went into the home and dug around the dresser drawers before finding what she wanted: a first-aid kit.

She left the home again and knelt down next to Vegeta, getting to work. She bandaged up his smaller wounds, and for the bigger ones, she tried her best to sew him up. His arm still sat there, the bone sticking out, showing just how badly it needed to be set. Gn… Yeah, that’d come next. And just as she thought about this while wrapping up a wound on his other arm, Vegeta gasped loudly, his eyes shooting open.

“Oh, so you’re not just going to die like that? I was thinking it’d take you a lot longer than that to come to. …You’re going to have to deal with me setting your arm in just a second, though.” She pushed him away from the cave wall so she could move around and get a good enough angle on that arm. She grabbed onto it, but looked it over with a disgusted look.

“Are you conscious enough to lead me through this, or do I have to figure it out myself? I’ve set Yamcha’s bones before, but this is a little intense.”

* * *

**His POV**

Where… Where was he? Was he still in hell? Everything was still hot, burning. His skin was sweltering, he could feel it. That’s it, this just must have been another layer of hell. Fuck. Vegeta couldn’t see anything, at first anyway. The world around him was a blur, fading in and out of existence. If Bulma was there, he didn’t know it. He must have been grumbling and mumbling enough for her to notice, but his brain just couldn’t focus. He felt heavier this time around too. Found it more difficult to move than when he’d fallen in the putrid blood or even when he’d been torn apart by his comrades.

He couldn’t move, why couldn’t he move? He tried propping himself up with his arms, but nothing happened. He began to panic, his fight or flight instincts kicking in. He had to fight, he had to get up! Again, he attempted to sit up but only got as far as lifting his head enough for it to bang back against the rock once he found he didn’t have enough energy to keep it upright. He was really, truly defeated. Yes, he was convinced of it now, this really was hell. All he could do was lie there and slowly allow his foggy vision to try and focus. There was a shadowy mass hovering over him, along with a distant voice.

“Are you here to torture me,” he begrudgingly asked. “Get on with it then,” he grumbled. Only he would be impatient enough to give orders to his would-be tormentors. His tired expression stared at the mass a little longer, until it started to take shape and form. A very, very familiar form. Blue, he could make out the shade of blue until finally he saw her. Only through his hallucinogenic state of mind, he may not have been seeing her as clearly as he thought. A dainty pair of horns lifted from her head. Her nails were long and black, and kept pricking him (probably his mind interpreting her stitching him up). Never the less, he knew those big blue eyes anywhere. Bulma was his tormentor.

“You,” he snarled. “It should be you… It should be you,” his delirium trailed. Suddenly, he looked more defeated than ever. He rested back, drifting in and out of consciousness, watching her as if he were willingly giving in to what he thought was coming next. This he could accept; if anyone deserved to torture him, it was Bulma. It should be her. After all he’d caused her, he deserved this. He could feel something moving around his bad arm. Every tiny movement was a new type of pain. Pain, so much of it, but he didn’t flinch (not yet at least). Anything she was doing; he wasn’t aware of it. Too bad he couldn’t help.

* * *

**Her POV**

He may have been conscious, but he certainly wasn’t awake. He was blabbering to himself some nonsense about torture, without even being able to look at her. …Did he hit his head that bad? Her brows furrowed. She didn’t like that. Hopefully he wasn’t like this for life. Maybe he was just so hopped up on adrenaline… She hoped so. She damn well hoped so. So, she let out a sigh and looked over his broken arm again. …It’d be so simple if she had healing water to fix him up with, but she didn’t. She was at least lucky she wasn’t also slobbering all over him with a running nose; her sickness seemed to have gone away since the other day. No, rather than slobber on him, she just had to deal with him doing all this to her. As if she didn’t have enough blood on her from dragging him over here.

His arm was out of his skin, poking out from his upper arm. It clearly needed to be set, and he obviously wasn’t going to help with it. There was no doctor around, no healing water… So, she supposed she just had to figure it out by herself. She grabbed onto his hand and stood up. One foot planted on his chest, and she shifted about to get her weight steady and try to ensure she was going to pull his arm as straight up as she possibly could. As soon as she was satisfied, she held onto his arm with both hands and slowly tugged upward, getting more aggressive with the pull as the seconds ticked on. His Saiyan body didn’t want to give, but within thirty or so seconds of tugging, there was a clear ‘snap’ to be heard, and suddenly the bone was right back where it belonged. She huffed and lowered both herself and the arm back onto the ground.

Then came wrapping it up and splinting it. Thankfully the first aid kit came with some mediocre splints for emergency use. She got him dressed properly, and looked him over. He looked pretty good from the front, but the back… Ugh. What was she even supposed to do about that? She grabbed onto his shoulders and forced him to sit up, and looked over his back from over his shoulder. All grated up and bleeding. It looked completely disgusting. It looked like the suit was entirely ripped off from the back, too, other than some threads here and there. Even Vegeta’s rear end was red and bloodied.

“What the hell am I even supposed to…” Gn… She guessed she just had to use up whatever gauze she could to bandage him up as much as she possibly could manage. She got to work, bandaging him all down wherever she could reach, as best as she could. He was nearly completely covered in bandages when she was finished, trying her best to tear off his clothes as she did so but, uh… At least it stopped the bleeding somewhat.

She probably shouldn’t move him in the state he was in. She stood up again and looked him over, wondering what to do. Would he even make it out of this? She sure as hell hoped so. She didn’t waste all that time just for him to die on her.

* * *

**His POV**

He just kept staring at her in an endless daze. Vegeta really wasn’t aware of what was going on. It was just by chance that he was awake for Bulma’s caring of him. The Saiyan was completely oblivious about the shard of bone protruding from his mangled arm, so when the demonic vision of Bulma stood up and planted one cloven hoof on his chest, he hadn’t the slightest clue what was going on. But it did get a reaction out of the delirious ape.

“What the- what the hell are you doing,” his gaze tried to follow her, glancing upward as she worked on him. Then his arm began to hurt, and hurt more and more until he was sure it was going to pop off. His teeth grit together and he tried to glance up at her again, attempting to figure out what the fuck she had in mind. That’s it, that’s what she was doing, she was finally torturing him. He deserved this, his defeated self told him. He had this coming. If this is what she wanted then it was nothing he couldn’t handle; he owed it to her. He was still a Saiyan, he was still tough, he was-

“GOD, DAMN IT, YOU DEMON SPAWN OF A WENCH!!! AGHH!!!” His roar filled the whole cave. The echo of his voice lingered throughout the deep cavern, bouncing back like angry ripples. Well, he hadn’t seen that one coming. Bulma snapping his bone back into place rattled the dreary prince from his nightmare, more or less. At least he was more alert now and wasn’t seeing her with horns. She was just Bulma now, kneeling down beside him and dragging his heavy body upward. He tried to pay clearer attention this time. Vegeta really didn’t want a surprise like that last one to creep up on him again.

Weary dark eyes watched the gauze unroll in her hands. She was... Helping him? Why was she helping him? He’d just come to the conclusion that she should be torturing him, not bandaging him up. Vegeta was coming to realize he wasn’t in hell, but just at death’s door. He was no use to her like this, so why the hell wouldn’t she just leave him there to rot? It didn’t make any sense. Never the less, he was being a little more compliant this time around. He stayed upright as best he could as she wrapped his back, watching silently as his head lolled to the side. However, the moment she got up to leave, his good side hit the dirt with a hard thud. He was still burning up with fever.

* * *

**Her POV**

It was obvious he wouldn’t really enjoy her setting his arm. But the scream was more than she anticipated. Ah, well. At least it was over and done with, and she could keep fixing him up. Thankfully, he didn’t bother to fight her after the scream, though in all honesty she wasn’t sure he could if he wanted to. He let her push and pull him around all she wanted, and when she got up… He flopped over, on the hard cave floor. …Maybe it really wasn’t possible for him to fight with her at all. Goddamn, what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t have wasted all those bandages for nothing…

…She guessed she could let him sit there and see if he got any kind of better. If he seemed to get better, she could bring him inside. But she didn’t want to waste all the energy she had just dragging him over, if it was just going to mean he would die in the stupid house and have to be dragged all the way out again. Of course, things could never even be that easy. As she mulled it over, out of the corner of her eye, she was something staring at her from outside the cave. She turned her head.

The creature retreated from the cave entrance at the sight of her looking at him, but she got a good look at him before then. Extremely tan, almost even dark skin, and big green eyes stared back at her. This thing didn’t look like aliens usually looked. It had a tail, and looked like what she’d seen from museums and some bored research she’d done (it wasn’t as if she was an anthropologist; she just liked to learn new things) of what humans on Earth used to look like, so many years ago. He looked almost human, but his nose was too big, and his mouth jutted out almost as if it could be considered a muzzle, but not quite long enough. It was a man, and a man in need of a haircut, with sloppy, long black hair framing his face.

Great, as if she needed another headache.

“Too bad you’re not feeling better, Vegeta. Look, we must have landed on a planet with Saiyans on it! They’re your people,” she huffed sarcastically. …Whatever, he seemed to be innocent enough, standing over where he was and clearly scared of her seeing him. She looked down at Vegeta again, before heading back inside. She was bound to have medicine in the bathroom cabinets. Maybe something that could relieve pain? Fever, too, maybe? With how flushed and warm he was and his random delusions, he was sure to be having a fever.

By the time she came back out, it seemed whatever creature it was had ran away. She found what she wanted, including a bottle of water, and knelt down next to Vegeta again. She pulled him up the same way she did before, and forcibly fed him a few pills. One for fever, two for pain relief.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still some weeks on, but there might be a point where chapters become much more infrequent. I'd update once every other week but I think if I did that I'd completely forget. We are quickly catching up to where we are in the roleplay now. Just a warning. But we still have a lot of stuff in store! I hope you guys enjoy. 
> 
> Also, don't be surprised if there seems a tone-shift. We've got back into this roleplay after about a year and a half break; there's bound to be a little strangeness. I'll warn you guys when the shift happens. :)
> 
>   
> 


	6. Stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta wakes up. Bulma discovers an alien problem.
> 
>   
> 

  


**His POV**

If Vegeta had known what Bulma was forcing down his throat, that being painkillers and something for fever, he would have never allowed it. The prince of all Saiyans? Taking anything for fever, let alone a silly thing like pain? Yet with his grand delusions, the prince was all too willing to swallow whatever she managed to pry into his maw. Water was more than welcome, but before he’d even finished his mouthful the prince had blacked out thanks to his rising temperature. His body fell limp and his head rolled back, and he soon found the ground yet again. At least he’d taken the pills. 

Hours must have passed and still the prince lied motionless. There was nothing, not even the twitch of his tail to note that he was alive. The burn out of his ki coupled with the brutal bashing his body had taken had exhausted him completely. Only time would tell if he’d wake back up, or if the medicine Bulma had gifted him would work at all. However, on the inside, his mind was as livid as ever. Visions of battle swirled into images of Earth, nightmares of survival would tangle into dreams of peace, until finally his mind quieted and there was nothing at all. His fever had finally broken. 

He’d been resting peacefully when something from the outside world finally reached his subconscious. It pulled him up to the surface like a diver breaching for air. His eyes opened, focused, and began to search for whomever or whatever had dragged him from sleep. Vegeta wasn’t delirious this time when his eyes slit open. He was already getting that look on his face (be it his very dirty, sweaty face) that he always got when he was trying to evaluate the situation. 

Bulma was here, he was lying down, and there was a softness touching his forehead. Ah, it was her hand. With a little more focus he tried to sit up, only to instantly falter back down. The pain in his arm forced him to glance over the layers of bandages and the splint around his bicep, realizing just how bad of shape he was in. Damn it… He must have landed harder than he’d thought. What of Bulma, was she hurt? His gaze darted towards her, finding her sporting her own line up of bruises and scrapes. His pain was nothing, nothing he couldn’t handle. Oh, if only he’d known how well those pain killers were taking effect in his blood, he may not have tried getting up again. But of course, the stubborn bastard did. 

“What happened, where are we?” He needed to get back to the pod, needed to see what was left of it… 

* * *

**Her POV**

She let the medicine work, but as hours passed, she figured he’d probably not make it. She spent some time in her house, reading one of the books on the bookshelf inside, but after a while decided it would be best to check on him. She noticed he was still breathing, so there was that. She sat down at his side and checked his temperature by placing her hand on his forehead. Hn… it wasn’t hot like it was before. So was the medicine working? She peered down at him, but just as she did… He opened his eyes. She pulled her hand away and let him struggle with sitting up as much as he could. Why bother helping him? She didn’t care all

much, after all. 

He seemed to give up on sitting up, and instead just looked her over and asked her so many questions. He wasn’t as delusional as he was before, it seemed. She wondered if he even remembered what’d happened earlier. The way he was talking, it seemed pretty likely that he had no clue he’d been whining and crying that she was some kind of demon not too long ago. She rolled her eyes at him and backed off to give him some space, leaning back on her hands. 

“We went falling out of the pod and you looked like you were going to die. I dragged you back to a cave and fixed you up best I could. I scouted out the pod, but it doesn’t look like it’s in great condition, so we’ll probably be stuck here a while. It at least had my capsules in it, so I took them back here and fixed you up with what I had in an emergency kit I keep in the capsule houses. Your arm’s broken, by the way. If you hadn’t figured that out from the splint… We don’t have any of the healing water or lotion or anything, so tough luck with that. Maybe if we’d kept that police ship for a little longer…” 

She looked out toward the cave entrance. Further out, past some bushes, she could see another couple of monkeys. How annoying. 

“Also, whatever wildlife lives on this stupid planet keep scoping this place out. They’re pretty skittish and haven’t bothered me, but…” 

* * *

**His POV**

It was a lot of information to take in at once, but Vegeta kept up surprisingly well. It wasn’t just the story Bulma was weaving, either. Sights, smells, location, but most of all, the new injuries to his body were all hitting him like a brick wall. So, he had broken his arm… He’d been hoping that wasn’t the case, but it wasn’t every day he woke to find his arm in a splint. It was a bit of a hit to his ego, but it wasn’t going to stop him. This Saiyan still had a mission to complete, and he wasn’t about to let a little thing like a fall hinder him. 

He could smell the local wildlife (as she’d put it) too, just as she mentioned it, and his gaze followed hers out of the entrance of the cave. Primitive lifeforms were staring at them from the ‘safety’ of the brush. What an utter annoyance, along with her capsule house. It may have helped her out (and even helped him survive) but he didn’t need it. He didn’t need this cave, this planet for that matter, or even Bulma’s help. What he 

was to find his pod and try to get it running again. It may not have been in great condition as she said, but it was better than waiting around on this rock while Raditz and Nappa got off Scott free. 

“We won't be needing any of that,” he tried again at standing up. “What we need is to get back to the pod so I can finish ripping those two traitors apart!” His anger momentarily gave him the strength required to stand on his own two feet. With his good fist clenched, standing proud and tall, he attempted to march right out of the cavern. But as soon as his left leg found footfall, it began to collapse under his own weight. Catching himself on a bent knee, he stood again, forcing a few steps before his leg begged to retire. It went on like that for a few more steps, but of course, he wouldn’t listen to his body and kept pushing. 

* * *

**Her POV**

He wasn’t listening. It was enough that she doubted he could truly beat up Nappa and Raditz with how beaten down he was, but it’s not as if the pod was usable anyway. She watched as he struggled, not lifting a finger to stop him. He could figure out by himself how stupid he was being. He struggled step by step, and when he was nearly out of the cave and still hadn’t seemed to learn, she finally got up and began following him, casually walking beside him as he stumbled. 

“You can get there, but good luck making it run. It has no door anymore. There’s random parts of it missing. Like I said, it’ll be awhile before we can get out of here. You might as well just relax for a while. She rolled her eyes, but again, she didn’t stop him. He could tear himself apart as much as he damn well wanted. Why even bother helping him now that he was conscious? He wasn’t at death’s door, so he could take care of himself. She was just lucky they didn’t seem to be on a planet that made them need to worry about enemies. There were just these stupid monkey people. 

It was then that she noticed his bandages were bleeding through. Of course the moron had to force himself so much that he was bleeding again. She groaned, rubbing her face in annoyance. 

“You know, I’m not giving you new bandages. You’re going to have to figure out that one for yourself. You’re only making things more difficult the more you refuse to just sit down and relax for a little while. What are you even planning on doing if you manage to get off this planet, huh? You can’t even walk, you think Nappa and Raditz still won’t be able to take you? You’d die, you idiot. Do you really want to die knowing that Raditz dealt the killing blow? Raditz, of all people?” 

* * *

**His POV**

Relax, relax?! At a fucking time like this?! Stranded on some dirt-wad while he had a vendetta?! The more Bulma rambled on with that slick tongue of hers, the more Vegeta was debating if it’d been worth taking the fall for her the way he had. He groaned, refusing to let her words sink in. But of course, the more difficult he found it to walk, the more it felt he’d be forced to agree with her. Again. Her mention of Raditz actually possessing the ability to finish him off was the last straw. There was no way, no how he’d ever let THAT happen… 

“There is no way that numskull could beat me, even if I were dead!” He insisted, but he seemed to be caving into her advice. Despite himself, Vegeta huffed a few labored breaths and held onto his bruised side, then slowly rested his good side against a large, nearby rock. Just enough to take some pain away from his bad leg. At least he’d made it to the mouth of the cave; he could give himself that little victory. The planet’s star was setting on the horizon, and just below he spotted a few pairs of eyes gawking up at him from behind a few boulders. A mighty 

was all it took to send the locals scattering down the side of the mountain. At least he still appeared intimidating. That was something. 

“There has to be another ship somewhere on this Kami forsaken planet. We can’t be the only ones that have ended up here,” he paused. “If I rest, it’s only to gain the energy to get myself airborne again. Then I can scout out for a way off of this rock. It’ll be a hell of a lot faster than walking,” he looked back at her, making sure she heard him. It was then he noticed something off about her skin. Her smooth stomach seemed to wiggle on its own, as if something slithered under the surface. That couldn’t be right. Wincing his eyes shut, he shook his head, hoping he wasn’t hallucinating again. 

Reluctantly, his marred body slunk further down the side of the rock, until he was sitting silently at its base. His good side rested wearily against the hard surface, still clutching his bruised ribs. Just a little rest, just enough to get his energy up. Then his stomach just had to interrupt with a loud gurgle. He ignored it, despite it twisting inside of him. He couldn’t walk, let alone hunt. All he wanted now was to rest a little while. At least from here he could keep watch instead of act like a useless hunk of meat just waiting to be eaten. However, all it took was the quick closing of his eyes to put him back to sleep. 

* * *

**Her POV**

He eventually listened to her and slowly slunk down along the cave wall to rest again. She rolled her eyes at him again as he complained and whined some more. Did he ever stop? At least he did good to scare away the monkeys nearby. She crossed her arms and turned around to head toward the capsule house, but then he spoke some more. Another ship? Ugh… Maybe. But there was no way she’d care. Why wouldn’t she just be able to fix up the pod again? Maybe he hadn’t realized that was something she was able to do. She turned around back to him in time for them to make eye contact, her brows furrowed as she stared. 

“You shouldn’t push yourself. Your bandages are already starting to bleed through already. With how you’re acting, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you bled out this night and I came back to a dead monkey on my front step.” It might have sounded cruel, but she was telling the truth. It was ridiculous. She huffed at him, continuing, “Not that I would care all that much, but I at least want Nappa dead before that happens. Can you at least suck it up and sit around to heal for a little while until we can make that happen? What do you even expect with another ship? We can track Nappa and Raditz with the pod. Any other random ship can’t do that, can it?” 

She shook her head and continued on her way into the house, ignoring his stomach growls. At least he wasn’t pushing himself for the time being. She walked straight into the house without offering it to him, though at this point he could. It’s not like she made some rule he couldn’t come in; she just didn’t want to deal with the mess if Vegeta ended up dying. But if he wanted to sit out there like a baby, then so be it. So she tried her best to relax, picking up the book she’d been reading and getting back into it. That is, until she began to feel hungry, only an hour or two later. 

She went to the kitchen to get herself food. There was plenty of it, although they were all the ‘instant’ stuff since she didn’t bother making food herself. At first it was just for her. But then, she couldn’t help but warily glance toward the door. …He’d die if he didn’t get food in his stomach, right? When was the last time he even ate? She had no clue, actually. She pressed her lips together. …She really wished she didn’t have to think about him at all. She wished she could start to operate as her own person. But here she was, taking care of Vegeta. 

She warmed up more than a few instant meals, knowing a Saiyan’s appetite, and also took the first aid kit again. She held it under her arm as she carried the instant meals outside, walking straight to Vegeta’s little rock he’d claimed. He was sleeping, and Bulma debated if she should just leave the food there. …No, it was better warm. She put down all but one of the foods as well as the kit, and then shook Vegeta by his good arm in an attempt to wake him up. 

“Vegeta. Vegeta, you’re hungry, aren’t you?” 

Damn, did she wish she didn’t have to do this. 

* * *

**His POV**

If she didn’t care as she claimed, then why wouldn’t she stop yammering?! Vegeta was done arguing, so went straight to drowning her out. It wasn’t too difficult, thanks to his head already making an internal throbbing sound. Oh, the temptation to give in and argue with her was there, but thankfully his drowsiness was even stronger. Couldn’t she just let him sulk in peace?! The dying sunlight was hitting her just right, unfortunately. He may have been ignoring her, but his vision still worked. The image of a pretty woman yelling at him wasn’t 

bad. Still, he sulked all the way up until she retreated back into her house. 

Hours pass. The planet’s moons were already hanging high in the sky by the time Vegeta found himself waking from a dead sleep. A light jolt shot through him at the sensation of being touched. It was bad enough that he hadn't even been aware that he’d fallen asleep, let alone that someone could get close enough to wake him… His defenses had really dropped, maybe had needed that rest like Bulma had said, after all. 

Under a soft groan, he gingerly sat up. His soggy bandages left a large sticky stain on the rock. He turned to find Bulma beside him with… Food? That certainly put a spark in his eyes and brightened his mood. He’d been in such a deep slumber he hadn’t even smelt it cooking. His stomach began growling like a pack of ravenous dogs that were trying to claw their way out of his belly just to get at the stack of plates. However, the stoic man resisted. It was humiliating to know anyone, even Bulma, had to help him. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. His good mood darkened; he looked away. 

It was humbling to force himself to accept any act of kindness. Eventually Vegeta’s tired arm reached out and grabbed a platter from the stack, putting it on the ground before him so he could shovel the food into his maw with his good hand. The taste of protein slowly washed away the foul mood he’d worked himself into, relaxing his posture. Oh, how he’d needed this. Every fiber of his being was begging for nutrients, anything to repair itself. Once he’d gotten half way through the mountain of platters, he finally glanced at the woman beside him. She didn’t have to feed him like she had - he was suddenly self aware about that… Had she eaten a tray, herself? His gaze roamed down her, noting her bruises. They looked untreated. Why the hell hadn’t she treated them yet? 

“You should at least clean that one,” he grunted, motioning to one of the larger bruises on her upper arm. Pushing away his tray, Vegeta reached for the medical kit she’d brought out instead. Eating and fumbling through life with one hand was turning out to be a pain, but he managed to open the box and find some sterilizer and ointment. It was no healing medical cream, but it’d do in a pinch. His brow and face softened, passing her the bottles. Her biggest injury was on her left arm, too. It made sense, as she’d ridden him on the way down, but it also had him almost… sympathizing. 

* * *

**Her POV**

She could tell he wasn’t at his peak just from how he reacted to being woken up. He was clearly unaware of her presence and completely unconscious beforehand, but at the same time, he didn’t do anything that showed too much surprise. There was no reflex that implied he would have hurt someone if it weren’t her. He was just that bad. She pressed her lips into a line, wondering if she should feel sorry for him or not. He at the very least wasn’t much use to her in the state he was in. She settled down on the floor next to him and started to eat her tray of food, mulling on the idea. It was… Odd. Knowing that she had to protect him in some sense. 

She watched as he seemed to have an internal debate of whether or not he should be eating. He finally gave in, but it was a slow eating, and he quickly changed the topic to her instead. Was it just because he was so used to being focused on her? He was telling her to treat her bruise under her arm, but she couldn’t help but glance over at the blood that had caked to where he’d been laying. He smelled heavily of iron and sweat, actually. But he seemed to not even realize why the kit was there, even as he opened it and picked out some of its contents. 

“That’s fine, I’ll do it in a second. But we should worry about you. How are you going to get better if you just bleed through your wounds like that? …If it weren’t for your arm, I’d be telling you to lie on your stomach.” She looked toward the capsule house again. …She should probably bring him inside later, if only just to clean up his wounds more properly. She didn’t realize his bloody mess had gotten quite that bad. She could clean him off, make sure it got plenty of ointment now that he was conscious and able to help her by sitting up without assistance, and then wrap him with clean bandages again. And hopefully he wouldn’t bleed too bad. 

She turned forward again and ate more of her tray of food, eyeing the outside world. It was more quiet now, thankfully, with no obvious predators or obnoxious monkeys. And… She missed having meals like this. The prison food was shit, and so was the food on the insect planet. This may not be a fully home-cooked meal, but there was something comforting in instant food. It filled her stomach and made her think of home. In the way she liked to think of home; not the way that made her remember how she didn’t feel like she belonged anymore, and all but had to leave everyone behind because she was so ruined. 

“…Do Saiyans heal fast? I know it can take a human a really long time to heal a broken bone, or the wounds you have. If we can get you in good enough condition that by the time we can leave, you can at least walk… Then we could take a pit-stop to somewhere to get some proper healing stuff to get you back into shape. But I just… Want to make sure that you’re not going to be stuck like you are now for weeks and weeks. Right? I’m sure we’ll be able to get off this planet in no less than two weeks.” 

* * *

**His POV**

They ate in peace for some time. Budding flora, rustling fauna, distant running water and grazing beast. Their scents came rushing into the cave from the coming cool breeze. The fresh air felt good tugging at his hair. His senses were livening back up with every energizing mouthful he took. The fresh spring night was calm and silent - apart from the stray chirp or coo of nightly creatures. It reminded Vegeta very much of the times he’d seek solitude. This was often where he’d find himself; staring up at the stars atop a mountain. But he wasn’t alone this time, was he? A sneaky glance shot in Bulma’s direction as she talked and they ate. She didn’t feel like an intruder into his personal space. How different it felt; yet completely the same. 

“I’ll heal far before two weeks,” he boasted, but he was only guessing, honestly. He’d never been this damaged before, and he normally had a healing bath to look forward to. Still, he was confident. “It wasn’t uncommon for a Saiyan to be killed off if they couldn’t heal quick enough. It’s vital for us. My body will be twice as strong when it heals.” Saiyans were much like his broken bone. They always came back stronger, tougher. His boasting was a good sign too, he was feeling a little better. Still, Bulma mentioned ‘two weeks’. She must have been planning on repairing the pod. A suspicious glance passed him as he took another plate. She was good at mechanics and had improved his armor. She’d already taken a look at the pod, too. A part of him wanted to believe she could. 

By the time he’d finished the stack of Salisbury steaks and meatloaf dinners off, Vegeta stood from his spot only to sit back down beside her again. He was closer this time, too, and with the medical kit in tow. Yeah yeah, she’d claimed she’d clean her wounds up later but that didn’t mean he believed her. His nose scrunched, he’d have to do it himself. With the combination of his right hand, prehensile tail, and teeth, he went to work swabbing the scrapes and cuts of her left arm with ointment and cleanser (that surely stung, but he knew she could handle it), before bandaging it. There was little to no eye contact as he worked, just concentration. That is until he saw something move under her skin… Again. There was no way that was a hallucination this time. Fuck, there was something living in her body and he knew he had to get it out. Now. 

“Bulma,” a stern gaze flew up at her, still holding her arm firm. “Lay down. I’m going to need you to lay down. And. Don’t. Move.” There was no warning, no explanation, just an order. An order that he was forcing her to obey for once. Vegeta was already starting to use his weight against her; pressing his bad shoulder against her body as he reached for whatever sharp object he could find in the med-kit. Ah, a scalpel, that’d do. The thing under her skin was still wiggling, making it obvious where he’d have to cut. He’d have to be precise though. Cutting the thing inside of her could be disastrous; it could leave pieces behind. 

Cutting open her skin was the easy part, forcing the creatures head to pop out of the blood oozing opening was another thing. Guiding the thing out into the open with his forceful finger tips, Vegeta grabbed hold of the thing as soon as it started squirming its long, slimy, disgusting body all over her stomach. It didn’t want out of her warm flesh! The more Vegeta pulled, the more of it just kept coming, like an angry rubber-band or wriggling spaghetti. Eugh, it… It was so disgusting! It was, it was a fucking worm! And it was wrapping its dripping, blood coated, ribbed body around Vegeta’s wrist the more he struggled with it, until finally it popped completely out with a gross ‘

’ sound. Kami, get it off, get it off! He could feel its natural coating of mucus bubbling between his gripping fingers. He wanted to vomit, his face was clearly turning a shade of green. But he kept it together long enough to sling the thing across the cave floor and blast it for good measure. It was nothing more than a skid mark now. 

* * *

**Her POV**

It felt strangely comforting, sitting with him. There was some small feeling of unease in the comfort, though. It didn’t feel right. Why was she so comfortable with him? She shouldn’t be. And yet here she was, quietly eating with him as she listened to him speak. Saiyans always come back stronger, he explained. She glanced over at him. So he’d get over this, and have an ever better chance of killing Nappa, then? Then again, she could never tell when he was just full of it. Maybe he was just trying to brag. She looked toward the skyline again, at the moons in the sky and the stars twinkling around them. It was pretty, at least. She ate the rest of her food and set it off to the side, making a mental note to take it inside to toss out once she would get up. 

That’s when she turned to fix Vegeta’s wounds up. Just as she did, though, she found he had other things in mind. He began fixing her wounds, rather than the other way around. She let him do it, figuring he’d argue too much if she tried to fight back against it. But still, it was so strange. Why would he even bother? Maybe he just felt bad that she was the one caring for him this time around, rather than the opposite. She looked back out of the cave again as he cleaned her wound, trying to ignore the pain of the stinging ointment, but again, Vegeta distracted her. 

“What?” She raised a brow at him, suspicious. But then his voice got more serious. She gulped as she lowered herself down as he commanded of her. “Wha… What…” Just as she was trying to get more info out of him, he pushed her down in a way that made her heart start to beat faster. She knew he probably wouldn’t hurt her anymore but– But… And… Did he just pull out a knife?! Her heart all but leaped into her throat, and she put her hands on the flat, dirt floor to try and struggle against his weight and get up. 

“Let me go! What the hell are you–” 

It was quick. He cut open her belly, making her yell out in pain and surprise. She tried to scramble away from him, before realizing he was doing… Something. She stopped with her body halfway turned, and her eyes slowly widened, and widened, and widened as she saw what was happening. He was pulling out a long, black, oozing and bloody creature. Its tendrils were squirming. And it just kept coming, and coming. It began curling around Vegeta’s wrist, and as soon as Bulma had enough mind to process what was going on, she let out a bloodcurdling scream. 

As soon as the thing popped fully out of her, Bulma scrambled to her feet. She didn’t care if she was now bleeding from a wound on her stomach. She couldn’t stop moving, touching herself all over as if she’d be able to feel the parasite. She paced the cave’s entrance until she stumbled against the cave’s wall, supporting her as she finally lowered her head and puked up the dinner she’d just begun to digest. And even after she was finished puking, she just rested against the rock, shaking in disgust and fear and horror. Who knew what else existed inside her? How did she know there weren’t more? Ohh, oh god. What even was it? It looked almost reminiscent of the creature that had fucked her back at the spaceship. Don’t— Don’t tell her… Ohh, god. 

She puked again. 

* * *

**His POV**

That blood curdling scream rattled right between Vegeta’s ears and pierced his brain. As if things weren’t chaotic enough, between her struggling and the creatures squirming. But in the end he’d managed to separate her from the invading parasite. Honestly, he wished he could blast it a second time, or even third, it was just that disgusting. But he didn’t have the time, nor the energy. He was too busy trying to keep down his own dinner. Don’t do it, Vegeta. Don’t lose your constitution. It was over, he told himself, though he felt like he could still feel it wriggling between his fingers. Ugh, he felt his stomach twist and lurch at the thought, his face turning greener. Worm, why’d it have to be a worm of all things?! Slapping his hand over his mouth, it was all he could do to stay in control and not to dry heave. 

And then he heard the gag and splatter of Bulma puking down the side of the cave entrance… And Vegeta quickly followed… His blast of green acid-vomit all but melted through whatever immediate rock it hit, dripping and sizzling down the cave entrance opposite Bulma. What? There was a reason Siayans could eat so much. His dinner was already liquefied. Propping his elbow up on the size of the cave, they both must have looked a mess. Then he heard her up-chuck again, and Vegeta knew he had to take charge of the situation. Taking up the medical kit, his staggered walk kept a wide circle around the blast mark and ashen parasite. He didn’t even want to look at it, honestly, in worry that he’d lose his stomach all over again. He needed to finish what he’d started with Bulma. 

“I need to check for more. Try not to vomit on me,” he cringed the harsh words through his teeth. He was still on edge, as she probably was too. After giving her a quick, meaningful look, Vegeta knelt down in front of the horrified girl. He really didn’t want to do this next part, but he knew it’d be the best bet in giving her a thorough inspection. He had to sniff his hand, the one that’d pulled the beast from her belly. His face winced, bringing his fingers to his nose. Disgusting! It smelt just as bad as it’d looked. The very fur of his tail stood on end and a clear shiver shook his body, his face clearly queasy. Swallowing down new bile, he moved his hand to Bulma’s hip to steady her and began to sniff just above her skin. 

He could smell her blood, his nose hovering over the open wound, and with it the mix of the creature’s scent. He glanced up at her again, making sure she wasn’t going to puke on him before he continued. Over her silky belly and past both of her hips, down one leg and then the other, before he slowly began to stand, trekking his keen sense of smell over her all the while, all the way up to her nose. The higher he rose the less he could smell anything, other than her sweet smell. It was refreshing after what he’d just endured. 

“You’re clean,” his deep voice assured her. But there was still the issue of her now open skin. Her panicking had splattered blood all over the cave floor. Giving her some space, he knelt back to the medical kit, opening it up and seizing a needle and thread (though threading it was going to be a bitch with one hand). Normally the healing cream he so often used would seal up any open wound. But the lack thereof left them only one alternative. He’d have to stitch her up. 

* * *

**Her POV**

She was so focused on trying not to puke again as she thought about the disgusting scenario she’d had to now deal with, that she didn’t even notice Vegeta until he came close enough that he spoke to her. He, too, was worried about there being more. She gulped down at him and nodded as he stared up at her, warning her not to puke as he lowered himself. She could try not to do that, sure. He sniffed around her, though, and this is when she began to feel unsure. How could he be certain just by sniffing? She wrinkled her nose and looked away from him as he sniffed her, though… It was nice to get some kind of confirmation, whether or not she could believe it. It’s not like she could just tear her skin off and look for herself, no matter how much she wanted to. 

She took a second to compose herself, closing her eyes and letting out a long sigh. But as soon as she opened her eyes again, she noticed he had a thread and a needle. …Ah. He was planning on sewing her up. Her brows furrowed. His hand was obviously not gloved; he’d lost basically all his clothes in the fall. His hand was bloody, and with all kinds of dirt on it. She took a step back. She knew at least some of that blood wasn’t her own. She wasn’t about to get some kind of weird disease from sharing blood with some alien species. It was a miracle enough that nothing’s happened from having sex with him. 

“You have to clean yourself off before doing something like that.” She pressed her hand to her belly, wincing at the blood seeping through. She really shouldn’t have pushed herself, but she’d gotten so overcome with horror. Could she be blamed for that? She glanced back at the place on the ground where the worm had been before it’d been incinerated. Her nostrils flared. Disgusting! How long had that thing been living inside her? The fucking alien had laid eggs…? Ergh… She wanted to puke again, but she closed her eyes and took another breath to calm herself down. Next, she turned and began walking to the capsule house again. 

“Come on. Be careful with walking. You could barely do it before, how come you’re better all of a sudden? Don’t rely so much on adrenaline, you’ll hurt yourself more. Don’t die before you can kill Nappa and Raditz.” She glanced back at him again, wondering in the back of her head about how big the mess is going to be to clean up in the capsule house when they were finished. She specifically didn’t bring him inside because she didn’t feel like cleaning up this man’s blood, but it looked like she’d have to clean stuff up either way. At least they’d both be alive in this scenario regardless. She at least didn’t have to worry about dragging out Vegeta’s stinking body. 

She walked into the capsule house, going slower now that she had to worry about the small stomach wound and how it was bleeding. Obviously he hadn’t punctured much more than the skin, but that didn’t make it that much less painful or bloody. She headed into the bathroom and went straight to the bath, at least trying to contain the mess to a single place. The water was turned on, and she tried to clean off the wound best she could while she waited for Vegeta to catch up. He did still have a limp, after all. He was still slower. 

“You have to wash your hands before you get near me with anything. And clean the thread and needle now, too. It’s contaminated from you touching it. Then we’ll fix your bandages.” She wasn’t as hardy as a Saiyan, after all; why wouldn’t her wounds be more important? The wound under her arm was one thing, but this was more intense. 

* * *

**His POV**

Just as he was attempting to thread that damn needle, his tail wrapped around the metal and his fingers aiming the thread into the eye, Bulma interrupted him. Clean up, was she serious? There was a gaping, blood spilling hole in her torso! Vegeta’s eyes widened, a little off guard. He’d been so into the moment of caring for her that he was obviously perturbed by her stopping him. Ugh, Earthlings and their desperation to be clean above all else. Well, maybe she had a point this time… Her immune system never did prove to be as foolhardy as his own. The last thing he wanted was for her to become infected with another parasite. He was NOT dealing with that again, if he could help it. 

“You almost sound as eager to kill them as I am,” he huffed, puffing out his cheeks in embarrassment of her calling out his staggered pace. He really couldn’t blame her for wanting to witness their deaths, though. They’ve never gotten along, his men and the girl. Not that he’d ever cared. Well, until now. Taking up the medical kit, the prince followed her into the light of the Capsule house. Droplets of blood and dragging scuff marks were left in their wake. His leg really was taking a toll on him. Each step felt a little more agonizing than the last, thanks to his rush of adrenaline wearing down. The torn ligaments and muscles were definitely going to remind him how stupid it was to push himself like that earlier, for sure. 

Steam and rushing water filled his senses, leading him through the tiny makeshift house. It was so similar to the home she’d shown him back on earth, yet so different. Simple. Efficient. His primal brain wanted to search it out for any weaknesses, his gaze falling from one corner to the next, but his damaged body said otherwise. It was vital he made use of every step he was forced to take. And then as he rounded the next corner there she sat at the edge of the bath, already washing away the dirt and bile that’d caked to her tender skin. Maybe he did need to get a little cleaned up, he admitted inwardly. There was so much blood, sweat, and soot coating his body it was difficult to tell what color he was anymore. 

Setting the med-kit aside, Vegeta joined her at the water's edge and dipped his only working hand into the warm bath. Streams of filth were filtered from his arm thanks to the moving current. Ah, then he realized… He couldn’t exactly wash his hands as he wanted. It looked like he’d be using that tail of his gain. This time to pick up the soap and aid himself in washing down his hand, all the way up to his elbow. He glanced to Bulma as he worked, glancing to the wound she held so protectively. It was still seeping. After rinsing his hand under the rush of the faucet, he went for the needle again. This time doing it properly, meaning he gave it a once over in the suds and water before trying to thread it again. 

* * *

**Her POV**

She didn’t bother cleaning the wound properly since it was still open; she just tried to wash away the goo and some of the blood. She stared at it sickeningly, but was distracted from it when Vegeta came walking over. She stared at him as he came over and washed his dirty hand. He used the soap to clean himself, cleaned the needle, and then it began. She was glad she wasn’t forced to do this; she wouldn’t have been able to. She could barely keep still as Vegeta sewed her up with his one hand, and occasional help from his tail. She held onto his raw shoulders tightly, squeezing them from support even if he himself was still injured. She couldn’t help herself. 

“It… Ahh– Fuck, that hurts. Hurry up, hurry up so it’s done with! And you better not have to open me up again to show me another one of those things! There better just be one!” She squeezed him harder, gasping each time the needle pushed into her skin. At least the wound wasn’t long; it didn’t take too much time, and when it was tied up, she took a deep breath, the pain still radiating from the wound. 

At least the bleeding would stop soon. 

“How much gauze is still in that stupid medical kit? I used a lot for you. I think there’s still some more we keep here, but we have to change your gauze and wrap up my stupid stomach wound, too.” It didn’t help now that she was also injured. He wouldn’t really be able to walk, but your stomach moved with just about everything done; it didn’t help her at all. 

…Maybe she’d missed some healing water in the pod. She’d have to look more thoroughly next time she got over there. 

* * *

**His POV**

At some point Vegeta began becoming fed up with the woman’s constant fidgeting. As if it weren’t difficult enough to pierce the entire layer of her skin one-handed, she was making it increasingly difficult to make sure the stitches lined up rather than a miss match of strings. He used his tail mainly to steady her; wrapping the furry appendage around her waist, keeping her from tilting too far one way or the other whenever the sharp needle hit a particularly sensitive spot. However, by the time he was half way through, they seemed to be moving in tandem. He was just as ready for it to be over, too. Not only was it irritating to listen to her whine, his shoulders were daring to bleed back up again thanks to her digging fingernails. 

“It would go faster if you’d hold still!” He spoke past the extra thread in his teeth, tying off the wound. It was amazing he hadn’t said more. He’d done as she’d asked, fixed her up, all without raising much complaint. Unusual. Vegeta was thinking the same as Bulma, too, his hand already going through the medical kit for something to seal over the now reddened skin of her new stitches. There were still a few rolls of gauze, but he went for a large square bandage instead. Peeling off the sticky backing, he smoothed the plaster over her wound. There, now it was completely covered and dressed. That just left himself, and his blood encrusted wrappings. 

Ah, peeling off the layers of dried bandage felt like tearing off layers of his own skin. The saturated material had become one with his scabbed back, but at least

wasn’t whining about 

injuries. He bared his teeth, giving Bulma a glance, gauging to see if she thought lesser of him for his poor condition. Exposing his back may have torn open a few marred areas, probably from the haphazard job he was doing with only one hand, but over all he wasn’t bleeding nearly as badly as before. His skin was already beginning to heal itself up, preparing itself to morph into new scars. Only the larger, deeper gashes that ran across his spine were so obvious; claw marks left by stone rather than beast. Still, it was amazing just how fast a Saiyan could regenerate. 

* * *

**Her POV**

“I can’t help it!” She whined, holding onto him tighter. But thankfully it was over soon, and Vegeta quickly taped up her wound with a large bandage. She pressed her hand to the sewed up wound gently, and her eyes focused on Vegeta. He began to peel off his bandages, and she reached over to help him, trying not to move her stomach too much. She pulled them all off him when he was clearly struggling, ignoring the uncertain look he gave her. Of course she wasn’t judging him. Sure, it was a pain, but she couldn’t complain when she was now messed up, too. 

As soon as all the disgusting bandages were on the ground, she looked over his wounds. They were already beginning to heal. Saiyans were so strange. She reached over and grabbed the first aid kit, wincing and hoping she wouldn’t already fuck up the wound from just bending over. It seemed fine as soon as she stood straight again, and looked through her kit to grab the ointment. Now that he was conscious, it’d be easier to clean him up. 

“Hey, maybe you should get in the shower for a second and rinse yourself off all the way. Then I could put the ointment on, cover you in gauze again, and then…. Maybe try to eat again.” She’d thrown up the only food she’d had in some time. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that it needed to be refilled. 

“You were really disgusting when I first wrapped you up, you should feel lucky you’re already starting to look alright again.” 

* * *

**His POV**

Could he really be blamed for not wanting her to see him this way? The prince was a mess, something his pride was currently feeling. He glanced at her again, noticing her lack of pity and no note of her thinking of him as inferior now. She didn’t mind, he told himself. Besides, it wasn’t like this was news to her. Bulma had been the one to drag him up the side of that cliff and bandage him in the first place… Pull him from death's door… Vegeta may not have been one to allow room for help, but at times like these he supposed it wasn’t so bad. In some overlooked way, between them caring for one another’s wounds, they were actually working together. Who would have thought. 

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he insisted as he stood. “If I hadn’t had the strength to get us down, we’d both be dead,” he barked, stepping into the shower. To Vegeta, there was no such thing as luck. Everything was by tooth and nail alone. What was left of his blue suit (that being nothing more than his right pant leg) was shed; the stream of water already steaming up the room. Alright, he had to admit this was a good call. His muscles could have sighed at the relief the beating hot water provided. He took the opportunity to fill his burning mouth with the spill of water. Rinsing it clean of the taste of acid-vomit. The smell of soap soon overpowered the stench of his dried blood and muck, and before too long the prince was stepping out again. Naked, naturally. 

After grabbing a towel, he sat back down beside Bulma on the edge of the tub. The towel clutched to his lap; it wasn’t exactly like he could wrap it around himself with one hand. Now that he was clean it was obvious just how bruised and beaten his body was, especially his left leg. It didn’t need his suit to remain a deep, purplish-blue all the way down to his toes. The color bloomed into black buds all the way up to his broken arm. He glanced at the bandages then back to Bulma’s big blue hues. He knew he couldn’t do it himself; the hard line his mouth was making said so. He was relinquishing the rest of his pride, allowing her to help him at his weakest. At least this time he could help, or at least sit up straight without falling over. 

* * *

**Her POV**

“Yeah, yeah. But maybe you should just feel lucky. I didn’t have to drag you to the cave, either.” She looked away when she said it. It was a fact that she’d debated it for a while, and was not in any rush. He did end up like this because he saved her life. Was it bad of her to say she didn’t care about returning the favor all that much? If Raditz and Nappa were already dead, would she have just left him there, too? She looked back at him to see him strip off what remaining piece of clothing remained. His armor, only existing in the front, had long since fallen when she’d dragged him to the cave in the first place. She let out a breath and pulled herself up from the edge of the bath as he showered, having no interest in getting wet. So as he washed off all his dirt, she examined her stomach in the mirror, along with all her other bruises. They really felt like they were aching now. She probably had painkillers sitting somewhere. She began to look through the cabinets to see, though she could only do so much without risking screwing with her wound too much. 

She stopped once Vegeta shut off the water and came back out. He covered himself and stared at her somewhat expectantly. Some part of the back of her mind loathed having to help him, though it felt like a far-away emotion by now. Why would she still feel that way? Maybe it was natural. Maybe she’d never get over it. But the idea of helping him. Of cleaning his wounds… In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but want to spit in her own face for it. For what he’d done in the past, that he’d tried to atone for again and again. How many people did he kill on that police ship they were on before? He was different with her now, but was he

different? 

She sat down on the side of the tube again and unscrewed the ointment so she could begin to slather it on his skin. It took a great deal of the tube to accomplish the task for his whole, wounded body, but when she was finished, she gestured toward the gauze. “You have a tail, at least. Make it useful. The last thing I want to do is bend over and have to get the stitches redone right after you’ve just done them. Then I’ll dress you up and we can eat again.” She glanced at the mess they’d left, a trail of blood leading out the door. Thank god they didn’t have carpeting. “…Though I’ll probably clean first.” 

* * *

**His POV**

There was a silent war waging inside of each of them, it seemed. Both unbeknownst to the other. While he may have had no choice in accepting help, that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it. Vegeta refused, still beating himself up inside for becoming so grossly immobilized. What a fool he’d been. Surely there had been something he could have done during the fall to at least keep his leg in working order. It was only Bulma though, right? The look on her face didn’t seem to mind, and she’d taken to patching him up so easily. The prince wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. Still, for all those times he’d thrown around the word weakling, he sure as hell wasn’t going to mutter it any time soon. It’d remind him far too much of himself. 

The tension in his mind was surely felt throughout his back as Bulma coated him in the Earthling ointment. Nope, he wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t enjoy this - this lowly position. It wasn’t like every other time a pretty female had washed away his well earned wounds. If anything, he was probably becoming more tense as the moments ticked by. His fingernails bit into his palm, resisting. He didn’t want 

to feel 

He wanted to hate it, to never think of it again. But the more the girl’s soft hands ran over his sore skin, soothing and cooling his lesions, the more Vegeta’s body began to relax. Resting his elbow on his knee, his head dropped, his fists falling lax. The big brute finally closed his eyes, until he was basically putty under her touch. 

His eyes slit open at the mention of food; Vegeta coming out of his daze at the sound of Bulma’s voice. His tail did as she commanded and picked up the roll of gauze with ease, passing it to her. That extra appendage of his really did come in handy at times. He wanted to blather on about how she better have something better in mind than frozen dinners, and he almost did -his snarling mouth hanging ajar, but his tongue got caught in his throat. What position was he in now to say so? He couldn’t even hunt… That’s what he really wanted to do, hunt. Bulma was right, he was lucky she’d even dared to care for him to begin with. But how many rations could she have? Certainly not enough to last a regenerating, full-grown Saiyan more than a couple of days. 

“In a few days I should have the strength to hunt enough for the 

of us.” It was the most alpha male thing he could have said. Even more so than he probably realized. How many times had he openly admitted to providing for another? Still, despite that fact, Vegeta was feeling less and less alpha in the growing situation. He had to say something that made himself sound at least a little useful. Especially the shit she was going through tending to him. Oh yes, he knew, and he hated how aware of it he was becoming. His stomach rumbled again, this time rather loudly, as if just to add insult to injury. Just his luck. 

* * *

**Her POV**

She took the gauze from him and began to wrap up his wounds as he spoke. It made her raise a brow, though she didn’t say much about it. So, he wanted to support her? Maybe he just didn’t want to keep eating the frozen dinners. Or he was just making up for the weak position he was clearly in at that moment. She shrugged off the comment as not meaning all too much. It’s not like she wasn’t welcoming the idea. She only had so much food, and she didn’t want to waste her time having to pick berries for him or whatever. He was a bottomless pit. The faster he could get strong enough to bring back animals that she could properly cook, the better. Not that she particularly cared for cooking, but…. Food was food. 

She heard his stomach rumble, and she shook her head as she finished wrapping his wounds in the gauze. She then stood up and outstretched her hand to help him up; a gesture she didn’t necessarily have to do, but… He was at least being cooperative. She could afford to be a little nicer to him, she supposed. Though in the meanwhile, she did glance at the large mess they’d left all over the bathroom. …Maybe she should clean it while waiting for all those damn frozen foods to warm up. It wouldn’t be too difficult for Vegeta to just sit by the microwave and keep warming them up one by one, would it? In the meantime, she could clean. …As long as she could trust him to not eat all of it, but if he did say he would provide for her when he was healthy, it shouldn’t be wrong to believe he wouldn’t eat all the food in the house… 

“I’m going to show you how to warm up the food properly. If you could just sit and keep doing that until there’s enough for us, while I clean up the giant mess of blood we’ve made all over… Think of it as making it up to me for not being able to go get whatever now that you’re so hurt. Can you do that without eating all of it so there’s nothing left for me, or for the next few days? I have a lot, but… We might be stuck for a few days. Keep that in mind.” 

* * *

**His POV**

There was little to no complaint from Vegeta’s mind, or even his body, by the time Bulma began re-wrapping him in gauze. The layer of ointment underneath would make healing much easier this time, instead of having to deal with blood caked bandages again. A breath of relief puffed from his lips once they were finally done. It was over. And, it hadn’t been so bad. Again, that could have something to do with who’s presence he was in. He’d been in a somewhat comfortable atmosphere from the start, though he may not have acted it. It could have gone a lot worse. 

The offer of her hand, however, was another story. The prince was a bit taken by the sight of it. So inviting and right before his face, just waiting for him to snatch it and hoist his pathetic self up. What the hell was she doing, mocking him? Finally admitting that she saw him as some helpless moron? She hadn’t given a shit back in the cave. Hell, she’d scolded him as he stumbled around (which he took much better than this). His gaze slowly rolled from her hand to wrist; up her arm to face. If he didn’t know any better he’d say she was just… Waiting on him. Those big blue eyes of hers were watching now, but he was sure they’d grow intensely irritated if he didn’t make a decision. 

He took it, sliding his rough palm past her own and using her as leverage to pull himself up. Just enough to keep weight off of his leg, of course. Still, with his other arm in a sling, that meant leaving his towel behind. It was a good thing the prince was a creature of little shame, because all he was wearing from the bathroom to the kitchen were bandages. He’d completely disregarded the mess they’d left. It was just merely blood. It wasn’t like it was vomit and burned worm guts. Egh. And besides - food. If all he’d have to do is heat these damn dinners up, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Though he wished she hadn’t brought so much attention to his lack of providing, the brute was a bit glad to have something to do. Bulma had been right about that. 

“I know how to properly ration,” he grumbled in his usual, gravely way. “Just show me how to prepare the damn things, then you can do as you want. It can’t be that difficult.” He may have sounded annoyed but really he was feeling his spirits return. A bit of banter always was a quick high for the prince’s mood. 

* * *

**Her POV**

It took him a moment, but he took her hand. She let out a small ‘oof’ as he pulled himself up, having forgotten how much he truly weighed. He was strong, even in the weakened state he was in. Though of course, he let his towel drop on the ground and wandered toward the kitchen without a single article of clothing. Bulma had been distracted, or at the very least assumed that he’d wrap the towel around his waist, but his bareness became very obvious to her. She scowled slightly as she followed him into the main area. Hnf… 

As he walked into the back of the capsule house, where the kitchen sat, she instead continued going to the other side of the house and opened a sliding door to get to the bedroom. It didn’t take long; she just looked through the dresser built into the wall for a moment before obtaining some articles of clothes that, at some point, belonged to Yamcha. Maybe he’d miss them at some point, but she may as well put them to use. Underwear and sweatpants. She walked back out of the bedroom and met him in the kitchen, where she placed the clothes in his one good hand. 

“Put those on.” It wasn’t a request; it was a demand. She then went to the freezer and pulled out a handful of frozen dinners again, dropping them in front of Vegeta. She pointed to the microwave, built into the wall as many things in the house were. “You press that big button to open the microwave, you take the tray out of the box, you put the tray in the microwave for two minutes. Is that simple enough for you? It’s not rocket science, I figure you should be able to figure that out.” 

As she finished her directions and chastised him, she went to the closet on the other end of the kitchen. Opening it up revealed cleaning supplies. She grabbed a mop and went to where the mess was in the main area, and began to scrub away. The mop was obviously something made from the Capsule corporation; it seeped soapy water to prevent a need for a bucket to dip it in. 

“You can turn on the TV over there, too. It won’t get reception obviously, but we can at least watch the stuff I have saved on there, or the DVDs I’ve already got.” 

* * *

**His POV**

Just as he was starting to get nosy in the kitchen, sniffing his way through a cabinet or two, a pair of sweatpants were shoved his way. It was no blue suit, that was for sure, but the female seemed rather insistent he put something on. Vegeta gave them a sniff, instantly recoiling at the scent. The items smelt an awful lot like… He didn’t want to think about it. It wasn’t exactly like he had a ton of options here, not to mention it was hardly his first time borrowing earthling clothing that he never intended on returning. 

“If any earthling can do it, I’ll have no problem,” he spouted, his head swiveling to watch the woman busy herself in the kitchen, as she attempted to thread his uneven legs through the boxers. At least he had that tail, it made getting the baggy earthling clothes on much easier. Still, he was half heartedly attempting to listen to her huff and puff about how to defrost the damn dinners - if processed meat could be considered a dinner. In truth, her microwave was relatively reasonable if not recognizable to him. Like something he’d find on most advanced worlds. Quick, simple, efficient. That is until he was left alone with a stack of trays and an angry belly… 

Sure, it took no time at all to heat up a few meals, but then the small stack never seemed to shrink with the hungrier he became. He was a creature of self control, but there’d be no harm in gobbling one or two of the meals down while he was waiting, was there? Something told him he better not, but that only made him want to do it more. Glancing back at Bulma, his tail swished, deciding against it. Particularly because watching her do house chores was a bit of ego kick. Better her than him. At least she hadn’t made him do that instead of heat up meals. Not… That she could have forced him to clean up a mess, absolutely not, right- yet another thing he didn’t want to think about. 

However, there was no sense of waiting once the complete stack of TV-dinners were well, in front of the tv. The remote clicked on and the sound of static buzzed through the dwelling. Now this was something he knew how to do. Vegeta was already flipping through the various saved programs by the time he was on his first meal. He’d picked this up fairly quickly with his time on earth. How many times had she made him sit and watch something ridiculous? At the time he may have seemed to not be paying attention, but it was obvious now. He stopped on something random. Everything earthling was random to him. Food was more interesting. A small stack of trays went untouched, however. Set aside for another. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot last week, but this got me thinking that maybe I should do every other week to avoid running out too fast. So I think I'm going to do that. There's pages and pages worth of content so I think you guys can understand. Our fanfic is actually absurdly long put together, like legitimately the size of a book, so... I think you can understand.
> 
>   
> 


	7. Language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forced isolation brings a level of calmness between Bulma and Vegeta.
> 
>   
> 

  


**Her POV**

She ignored his comment, focusing on only cleaning. At least when she glanced back at him, he was  actually bothering to put the clothes  she’d given him on. He was struggling for a moment there, but he managed. Assured, she rolled her eyes and continued to mop, completely unknowing to him watching her. She grumbled under her breath about the mess that  was made as she made her way slowly into the bathroom again, at least thanking herself that she had all she needed to clean up the mess in her capsule house. It took some time; a little bit longer than it took for him to heat up every single tray. There was a lot of blood , after all, and she had to take some moments occasionally to squeeze out the blood into the sink and  continue on .

She took the mop back with her after she  was finished , taking it back to where it had originally gone.  That’s when she glanced to the TV; he was watching a random Western. What was this one called? Gunpowder? Either way, a cowboy was shooting at a group of no-good men while trying to protect a beautiful woman with his own body. This was the kind of stuff her dad liked to watch, wasn’t it? She used to joke with  Yamcha about how he felt like one of those cowboys when he saved her however many years ago. She turned away from the TV, letting it out of her mind as she closed the closet doors.

“So, did you do what I asked without messing up?” There was a stack of trays separate from the ones he was gulping down. But he couldn’t really expect her to eat more than one, right? She figured  he’d know she  didn’t need more than one. Either way, she walked over, and sure enough, they were all warm. She raised a brow at him as she took the first one off the top; a chicken pot pie. Good enough for her. It was  definitely enough to fill her up and get the taste of vomit out of her mouth.

“…You don’t think I’m eating all of those, do you?” She grabbed a fork and took her food to the main sitting area, beside the television set. Obviously, she left the other trays behind–  She’d put them back in the fridge and hopefully it  wouldn’t be that bad if they were reheated again. In the worst scenario, she was sure  Vegeta could  probably eat them. “I’m not the bottomless pit you are, how many times do I have to tell you? I  don’t have to eat like one of you guys. I only need one little meal a few times a day, and  I’m fine. I have to watch my  figure; I can’t just keep scarfing things down like you always seem to do.”

* * *

**His POV**

He could hear her pushing around that sudsy mop, followed with the crinkling sound of her fingers handling the mound of dinners  he’d left for her. Anything could have been on the television, honestly.  Vegeta wasn’t attuned to the sound of gun shots or a damsel in distress, his real attention  was always fixed on  Bulma . Where she was, what she was doing, even if only in the back of his mind. This time, however, he was paying a little bit of attention. The clamor of housework was a little new to him; call it subtle intrigue.

“You’re injured,” he murmured past a mouthful once the girl had found her place in front of the Western. “Don’t tell me your species doesn’t need the extra energy to re-cooperate. Besides, these things are hardly worth a mouthful. One can hardly be called a dinner,” he said far too knowingly. He was sure  he’d only heated up a small  portion for her. Still, he stole a glance down at her choice of food. A tiny bowl of a thing. It was the smallest of the bunch that  he’d heated for her, he was sure. There was a good chance  he’d just downed something similar in a single bite. His nose scrunched,  snarled even, reeling himself back at the sight. She had to be pulling his chain, there was no way any creature could get full  off of that, he just knew it.

“As for the  pod ,” he mumbled a little more stern this time, “see to it that the tracking device is in working order. Do you think you can manage that?” The tone in his voice was far too reminiscent of  Bulma’s , back when she was instructing him in her crude way.  Vegeta knew he  didn’t have to explain himself, though. Why  he’d want to know if that little piece of equipment would come back to life over all others. While he wanted  off of this rock, it was his ambitions that were  really behind him. The side glance he was giving her asked if she felt the  same, if she understood. He took another bite of his food. The roar of  horses’ hooves and whooping cowboys filling in the silence.

* * *

**Her POV**

“Yes, we need extra energy.  So, we sleep. We don’t eat like pigs.” She side-glanced at him, raising a brow at the comment to try and get her point across. She began to eat regardless of his opinion, and her eyes went from him to the television. The cowboy had shot the lankier of the bad men and had successfully gotten on a horse to ride off with the woman to safety, all while shooting back at the other man. It really did seem like no one knew how to aim in these kinds of movies. She  couldn’t help but think a little of the man sitting beside her. It was  kind of absurd to think about just how much more powerful he was just by himself than these men with guns, even though either could kill her instantly.

“Mm?” When he mentioned the pod, she didn’t bother looking at him as she munched on the pot pie. It was chicken, apparently. Either way, it was just what her stomach was begging for; hot all the way down. What was it he was saying? Make sure the tracking device was in…? She snorted and leaned back. What, did he think she was stupid? He was commanding her like he owned her, too, what was with that? So, in response, she turned her head and lowered the pot pie to her lap. She stared at him again, similar to before, with one brow raised. Quietly asking him if he thought she was stupid.   


“What, do you think I’d fix the pod with no way of finding those pieces of shit? Do you think I’d overlook something like that?” She recalled standing over his mangled body. She decided to save him so she could watch him kill Nappa for her. The man had given the guy enough chances; he was finally going to kill him. She wanted that far more than Vegetapossibly could. He had to know that, didn’t he? He had to know how much more important it ultimately was to her.    


She rolled her fork around in her pot pie as her eyes slowly moved from him across the rounded wall. Her head turned with it as she let herself think for a moment. As a question came to her mind. She parted her lips and asked it.

“Why haven’t you killed him before now?  You’ve threatened it a million times, and  he’s gone against your wishes a million times.  That’s why he has one eye now, remember? So… Why now? Why not before?”

* * *

**His POV**

What- What in hell was that look for?  Vegeta felt himself leaning back ( probably wide eyed) at  Bulma’s sudden turn of attitude. So  maybe he’d spouted it off as an order or two; old ways of speaking died hard. Retaliation -he grunted and returned focus to his food. Not bothering to answer her unspoken question of  whether or not he thought her so stupid to even ask. Truth  be told ,  Vegeta had more faith in the woman’s technical abilities than  he’d dare to let on. She was, as it were, his only  true hope for finding  Nappa and getting off this planet. If she  couldn’t find a way to repair the ship, there was a good chance  he’d be stuck here. Revealing that he felt that way was just too much for him for now, in his current banged up state.

A moment of silence passed, but it  wasn’t to last.  Vegeta’s shoulders tensed the moment the next question rolled  off of Bulma’s tongue. What kind of question was that, why would she be examining his reasons for killing  Nappa ?! The mood turned uncomfortable for a few long breaths. Even he had stopped eating.  Vegeta knew exactly why he wanted the old man dead. Or at least, he thought he did. There was still a chance his men  hadn’t abandoned him,  he’d known that from the start, but the way  they’d split up just  hadn’t set right with the prince .  Killing  Nappa ,  both of them , was becoming more cemented into his mind as days dragged on.  Perhaps it was just his bubbling anger, but things between his comrades had been tense for a while, increasingly so. So  Bulma’s question remained, why now of all times?

“I don’t expect an earthling like you to understand,” his gravelly tone ground out, but still refused to look in her direction. He  didn’t have to explain himself to her, to anyone. What did it matter to her, anyhow?  That’s when his vision finally crept in her direction.  Bulma had hated  Nappa from the start, and he really  couldn’t blame her as to why. But his reasoning? Why would she care? His mind waged war. Caught between his curiosity and his stubbornness to let anyone in.  Perhaps he could inform her, a little.

“It’s not like before,” he tried explaining.  Opening up really  wasn’t his forte. “It’s not uncommon for a royal to punish their subjects.  It’s always been that way. But  they’ve always proven to be loyal idiots. Idiots,” he shot a sarcastic glance, “but loyal idiots. They’ve known who their prince was.” Ah, this next part was  getting caught in his throat, it felt as if he were trying to  regurgitate a stone. “He raised me from a cub,” he finally admitted. “Most of what I know of my people was taught by him. But  he’ll get no mercy form me.  _ For treason. For challenging my title _ . For that  I’m going to destroy that ugly bastard,” his teeth gnashed; fist clenched. “Things have changed. His loyalties to his race have changed!  _ He must know I’m going to kill him for  _ _ this. “ _

* * *

**Her POV**

More about how she as an Earthling  wouldn’t understand. She was beginning to  get used to him saying stuff like that. She pressed her lips together as she waited for him to elaborate;  surely he  wouldn’t just leave it at that. And she  wasn’t disappointed; he did begin to try and tell her how he felt. It was rare, now that she thought about it, that he talked about himself. Sometimes he would hint at things.  He’d tell her something that suggested an experience in his past without outright saying it. But now he  didn’t bother with  vagueness ; he explained best he could. She supposed they were loyal. Even when they disobeyed. She  didn’t think  she’d be quite as nice as he was in his position, though. 

His voice seemed like it cracked. Like he was on the verge of crying or something for a moment. He  continued on as nothing happened as he told her how much he wanted to destroy  Nappa , but  she’d noticed it. She stared at him without trying to seem as though she was drawing attention to it. … She’d seen him cry before, when she was so  grief-stricken after finding out the dragon balls on Earth  didn’t work. He had tears in his eyes when  she’d told him how horrible he was. This was a bit different. …Would he have explained this to her a month ago?

“What kind of stuff did he teach you?” It felt like an odd question, but it occurred to her… She’d never really asked much about Saiyan culture. She didn’t care before; she hated the Saiyans, why bother asking? But something compelled her to this time, with the Cowboy movie running in the background of their conversation and the heated dinner warming her lap, waiting to be eaten. She felt like this was an opportunity; that if she didn’t ask certain questions now, maybe she’d never get to know them. She felt almost obligated, in a way.   


“As a kid, I mean. What do you know about  Saiyans ?  It’s not like I know anything about Saiyan culture. So… What’d he  teach you?” She rolled her fork around in the pot pie for a moment, before lifting it up again to take a bite; breaking the tension. But her eyes  didn’t leave his. She still watched expectantly, waiting for an answer to her simple question. Was there even anything to  Saiyans beyond violence? All she knew of them was rape, murder, and  pillaging . Even though  she’d like to believe  Vegeta changed, they were discussing what amounted to fratricide, and she was certain  he’d killed countless people to get the police ship he had before. He  wasn’t really that different; just to her. Was there anything even, beyond violence, in Saiyan culture?

* * *

**His POV**

Though the room may have been home to the sounds of the wild west, an intense silence was brewing around  Vegeta’s head the longer he sat there stewing in the various violent thoughts about just how he was going to finally end  Nappa . Would he dishonor him via decapitation, like he did so many of his past foes? Or would he just blow him to  smithereens ? The more he thought about it, the more bitter he became. Why was it so bitter in his mouth, in his  mind? It was a good thing  Bulma decided to break the tension when she did.  She’d snapped the prince out of it.

His head snapped up from where  it’d been sinking in thought, glaring at the empty tray in front of him. What was she looking at him like that for, so expectantly? At first  Vegeta wanted to ignore her question, but she persisted. Damn that woman. Where would he even begin to tell an outsider of his race? Of his proud people? But as much as the prince wanted to brush off her prying, he  couldn’t help the thoughts that started flooding back up from the back of his brain. Things like  Nappa forcing him to sit and listen as he rambled, or forcing him to recite the old ways before  he’d allow another mission. Here  he’d just been imagining killing the man, and now he was experiencing vivid adolescent memories. Come to think of it,  he’d wanted to kill him back then too.

“Only what any Saiyan Prince should know. The rituals and rights of our traditions. The chants and steps for every festival. It was required for all royalty to memorize every ballad of our past.” His mouth paused, his gaze wondering if  he’d spilled enough yet to  state her. Now that he was thinking about it; that he had some form of outlet where  he’d otherwise had none,  Vegeta was finding it difficult to cut off the flow of information that was pouring from his mind and into his mouth. If  anything, it was a distraction from his former anger. He did love boasting about his breed. The memory of his homeland filled his senses. Hot desert air. Women chanting. Burning red and orange suns.

“We had many festivals. Not… Like that mockery you witnessed before.” He was talking about the parade a few planets back. “A real festival. Celebrating strength, pride, victories, wars, legends, the  suns and moons, and even fertility. You could hear the incoming warriors from miles away.” The fertility festival was one  he’d remember throughout his lifetime. How could he not? The chanting of  warriors' voices so loud that they shook the distant ground. The battles, the rights, the challenging warriors  that’d come home just for this moment.

“You would have liked Saiyan women,” his dark voice mused in thought. “There was said to be none more bold in the universe. During the fertility festival the streets would be full of blood and trophies,  feasting and singing. But even if a solider had killed a thousand of his brothers, it  wouldn’t matter unless he could over power his chosen female. No female wanted to pass on weak blood… I remember… A female ripping off one of our finest  warriors' heads in the middle of a festival. She  was celebrated . Both men and women would beat on their chests and thighs, and roar for her.”  Maybe he’d gotten a little carried away, but it was a vivid memory. “The way the rest of the universe, your earthlings, mate and feast,” he boasted, “It’d be completely unrecognized.”

* * *

**Her POV**

She learned things  she’d never heard about before. Rituals, festivals, and chants. It  didn’t really occur to her that  Saiyans really had anything that could  be considered a ‘normal’ culture. She  was so used to just assuming they were just… So fucked up there was no way they could  possibly have anything one may consider a ‘culture.’ Though her sentiments proved almost true even now. She  furrowed her brows the more he talked. Fertility festivals  weren’t something unheard of on Earth. Certain cultures did them, and there were plenty of fertility-based gods and goddesses in history. But this idea of killing each other over women. No wonder why these freaks liked to do things like rape.  It’s what they knew. It  didn’t make it  alright by any means, but it gave  Bulma some amount of perspective. A whole society of aliens who would do things like rip  each other's heads off while trying to have sex…? She glanced away as she thought back to how  she’d done things like  gouge Nappa’s eye out, or cause the ‘pop’ that happened when  Vegeta chewed because  she’d shoved a capsule in his mouth.

Huh. No wonder why she  hadn’t just  been left to die somewhere.

“So… Do you guys have ideas of gods and stuff? Earth is big, and societies that were separate for such a long time grew independent of each other so there’s a lot of different societies, but there’s certain things that are consistent among every society. Every culture on Earth has an idea of marriage, of gods, of stuff like vampires… You guys clearly don’t have an idea of marriage, but what about the other stuff? Are there gods in Saiyan culture?” Why was she even bothering to ask him? What did she care? Though she couldn’t help but stare at him and wait in quiet anticipation for his reply. She was curious. It couldn’tbe helped.    


She went back to eating the pot pie, taking her time with it as the TV droned on in the background. It was unusual, how  they’d been together all this time and she was learning all this information just now. She hated him for a long time and  didn’t care, but even the past month or so… She supposed she just never asked, and he  wasn’t exactly one to dwell on the past. How many times had she blabbered at him about her planet before they managed to fix Earth again, only to  get told by him to get over it? He  didn’t like to care all that much, did he? Though maybe something had changed recently.  After all, would he really be going to kill  Nappa had he just continued raping and  pillaging as he had when they met? He would not have separated himself from  Nappa and  Raditz to  go get her. All those months, she could tell a growing sense of tension over her presence. Not that she cared, but it was something that certainly existed, at the very least.

* * *

**His POV**

She’d taken his story  fairly well . No  chastising or  belittling of his culture like she had so many times before.  Vegeta was searching for that crude pout of hers to bloom into her face, but it never came. Instead, the girl appeared… Interested. It made listening to her ramble about her own strange ways a little easier than usual. He still found the idea of gods and marriage completely ridiculous by Saiyan standards,  probably as outlandish as she found his, but it was interesting to find some common ground. Something that they could  actually knit their two estranged worlds together with.

“No gods. Not in the way the universe speaks of them; as some divine entity. Rougnui. It means legend or god in our Saiyan tongue. There’s no difference.” He’d answered her question, so why elaborate further? Could it be he was actually enjoying this… His mouth pressed firm, then parted again. “Only the strongest Saiyans become legends. There were many stories, but the most legendary of them all was The Great Golden Oozaru, The Legendary Super Saiyan. Roug-sai-ni. It was said that his power was immeasurable. So great in fact, that his fur turned to gold and he became as bright as the suns. The first in the line of kings, he conquered the planet we once called home. It’s why royals wear gold on their armor, a testament to our lineage and power.”   


Somewhere along his tale, the prince had shifted in his place. With his good arm resting on the back of the sofa, he was facing her a little easier now.  Maybe he was enjoying elaborating, a little. “His festival wasn’t as bloody. Who knows, you may have even enjoyed yourself,” he stated jabbingly. “A large carving of  Roug-sai-ni’s head would be danced through the streets along with drumming, sparing and chanting, until it was finally presented to the king.”  _ Another vivid memory. One of his father _ . “It wasn’t until the head was placed back above the throne that the feasting began. At the  king's command, naturally.” Despite his story telling,  Vegeta gently shook his head, thinking back. “But like I said, it was just a legend. A  thousand year old one at that.”

“What- What of your earthling gods?” He found himself compelled to ask. His brow hard and his eyes intensely asking. “Surely you must have something similar,” he said with the cockiest of grins.  Vegeta wasn’t sure why he was interested. It was bothering him inside just as much as it  probably had Bulma , but he wanted to know.  Perhaps he didn’t want the easy conversation to end,  perhaps he was genuinely curious, on some level. Whatever the reason,  Bulma had his undivided attention, as  quiet and as stoic as it may have been. Did this earthling ever pray to gods?

* * *

**Her POV**

He began elaborating again. She listened. Again, interesting tidbits. Royals are supposed to wear gold on their armor, hm? It was fascinating to hear this stuff, even though some part of her rejected the idea she should have any interest at all. But she  couldn’t help herself. It was at least strange, learning something new about him that she  hadn’t before. It humanized  him somewhat , even if she disliked that humanization. Though it was too late to be upset at the idea of her viewing him as more than just a monster. She  didn’t feel anything when he was lying a mangled mess, right? There was no glee just as much as there was no sadness. She looked away from him as she ate, trying to focus on his words rather than fall too much into thoughts she should keep hidden away.

Another festival he talked about. She had to wonder how small the planet he hailed from was, that this kind of stuff was so unanimous across the entire continent. Or  maybe that’s what happened when you had a planet that  wasn’t so water-based? She recalled  Vegeta mentioning her planet was a water planet. It was  mainly water , and the reason so many people evolved differently from each other was because oceans, seas, and mountains drawn up from the tectonic plates had separated them.  Maybe this was a problem that other planets lacked. …Though it was even more brilliant when there were things that all Earthlings shared. 

So, when he went from describing the festival to asking her about her planet, she had something to go on. She just finished eating her pot pie, and she turned her head  somewhat in surprise to see his face, looking at her much the same way as she must have been looking at him. Even through all the alone time  they’ve had over the months, she thought… This must have been the first time  she’d had conversations like this one with him. When had he ever shown an interest in her culture? Sometimes  she’d ask her about certain things in confusion or because he felt bad for her homesickness, but never a genuine interest in what Earth was like. Not that she could remember, anyway.

“There’s a huge amount of people on Earth, and so there’s lots of different gods, and there’s been even more throughout history that no one believes in anymore. Some people believe in one god, some people believe in a lot of gods, some people believe in becoming one with a god once you die, and so on…” She furrowed her brows as she set the pot pie down, thinking of what to say. “I guess there are still ideas like you described that’re pretty prevalent in most cultures. I don’t know for sure, but I think just about every culture has an idea of ‘Mother Nature.’ That’s not really a god, either, so maybe it’s like what you described with the… Legendary Super Saiyan?”   


She leaned back into the couch and drew up one of her legs as she elaborated. “Earth is considered a provider of life.  It’s got fruits, vegetables, fresh water…  It’s seen as nurturing, so it  gets portrayed a lot as a woman, sometimes a woman with a big, pregnant belly. But usually she  was equated with babies and plant life and water. She became a  pretty prominent figure in media a while back when there was suddenly a big push for renewable resources, because we were  sort of destroying our ecosystem with the way we drove  cars and stuff. My dad helped us  get passed that, though. But  yeah , I think  maybe you could consider that idea something  sort of like what you have.  There’s other real gods, though. And there were old religions that  actually celebrated a goddess like Mother Nature. But I’m no anthropologist.”

* * *

**His POV**

The prince pressed his knuckles to cheek as he listened, elbow resting on the back of the sofa. Her people were no different than the rest of the universe and its vast beliefs.  Vegeta was about to brush this  portion of her culture off as just another world with its tales of gods, until she mentioned  something in particular . Mother Nature. How bizarre. Hers was a legend of creation and life where his was a legend of destruction and power. Her description of the idea  couldn’t have been more fitting for her world. A concept revolving around nature, and a woman at that. It  couldn’t be helped \- it reminded him of the woman sitting in front of him.  Bulma was indeed a good representative of her world.

“Your world would have something like that,” he prodded. “It’s very fitting,” his voice smoothed out; a hidden complement. He approved of her tale, but at the same time he couldn’t help but see the stark contrast between their planets. No wonder she’d been so soft before he’d met her. “There was no such ‘life provider’ on Vegeta-sai. It only took, and it enjoyed taking the weakest the more than anything else. It was a large planet with little water. Long days and short nights, thanks to our two suns. Its gravity was intense, and was covered in desert as far as the eye could see. Orange and red sands,” he remembered; so said the distance growing in his face. “What little life it provided was out to kill you. If you didn’t want to fight, it’d force you to fight. It made us strong,” he said with gust. “It was considered one of the most inhospitable planets in our sector, but to any Saiyan it was just. Natural. “   


Generations of breeding had created a hardy people that could survive the harshest conditions. No wonder his race was so high on the evolutionary scale. It had carved out a culture and people that centered around what its planet had provided to them, like any other species. Only the mighty, those whom were born with the love to fight, would pass down their genes. It went hand in hand with what  he’d been preaching for months. That only the strong survive (though  he’d been changing his tune recently).  Vegeta hadn’t been kidding when  he’d mentioned that her planet seemed like an oasis. It had felt so calm and serine, like something out of a drug induced dream in comparison. But could he  be blamed ? Could his people? To the  Saiyans their world  wasn’t unusual, or even hostile. It was just the way of life. 

But what of the girl in front of him? Did she see his world as something terrible, frightening perhaps? His gaze searched her in the quiet. The Western film and since ended, rolling its credits over gentle music in the background. Had he wasted his time. Better yet, why did he give a damn as to what she thought?  Maybe he was curious. Could Mother Nature co-exist with The Great Golden  Oozaru ?

* * *

**Her POV**

She expected insults, or at least a ‘hm’ as if he  weren’t really listening.  That’s typically how talking to him went. But instead, he gave her a compliment. ‘It’s very fitting.’ At  first, she thought it was a back-handed comment, but his voice was different than usual. He meant it. Her brow raised. That was weird to hear. Yes, her work would have something like that. She watched him, trying to think of a comment to say back to him. But she  couldn’t think of anything. She just let him talk instead, leaning against the sofa with her cheek resting on the top of it and her leg drawn up to her chest as she listened. 

It  didn’t surprise her that his planet…  Vegeta-sai … That it  wouldn’t have much to go for in terms of providers. It  wasn’t grassy, or watery? It explained his reaction to Earth, she supposed. Sure, Earth had deserts, but he  hadn’t seen them, and people  didn’t usually live in those deserts. There was no way that she could deal with living in a place like he described. Hot, barren, with intense gravity and just orange and red? She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Even if it made sense that it would produce something like the  Saiyans , that  didn’t mean she could come to terms with it. What a harsh, disturbing world. Who would want to live somewhere like that? She  didn’t say it, but she  couldn’t help but think  maybe it was better off that the planet was gone. It sounded like a nightmare more than anything else.

“It explains how you ended up, at lea–”  **_ BANG. _ **

Bulma almost jumped from  being startled , and looked to the direction of the noise. Just… The wall. Outside? What was going on out there? She  furrowed a brow and glanced toward  Vegeta . again, though she realized she could hear the  muffled sound of chimpanzee-like hooting. There was no way she was going to go investigate for herself. Sure,  Vegeta was hurt and all, and he  shouldn’t exactly be getting up, but…  It’s not like she wanted to go look and end up getting hurt. She let a moment pass, her eyes still on  Vegeta .

“…It didn’t happen again.  Maybe it was nothing. If it was those weirdo things on this planet, they seem skittish enough. They’d run away when I’d run at them and stuff…” Not that she wanted to go investigate again to see for real if they were completely harmless. But at the very least, they were  probably safe in the house. Probably. “You’d have to have  ki or something to be able to break through the walls here, so maybe we should just…. Ignore it.”

* * *

**His POV**

He was so ready, waiting for  Bulma’s commentary on his home world. Would she make a  snide remark? He was already trying to  anticipate her wording, thinking he knew her well enough to try. Though, some small nagging voice gnawed at his pessimism, wondering if  she’d be impressed. But before the words could slip past her lips, all hope  was forgotten . The loud bang instantly jerked  Vegeta from his relaxed position,  jolting him up into a tall stance. Well, well, someone was getting their reflexes back (though he was still a little  perturbed that he  hadn’t heard them coming sooner).

“Like hell I’ll ignore it,” he growled, heading straight for the front door. Vegeta had felt her gaze searching him out for protection, and his instincts promptly took over. The moment he opened the door another stone went flying towards the house, this time crashing against the door frame and into chalky pieces. A loud growl ripped from the prince’s maw, mocking that of a lion’s. There were definitely animals at play here, because the more primal Vegeta got the more the locals began hooting and screeching like a troop of monkeys that’d spotted a jungle cat. And like a troop of startled primates, the group fled down the moonlit mountain side. But not without occasionally peeking over large boulders, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever scary creature was in that cave, with their great big glowing green eyes.   


“Skittish, is it,” he repeated her words. He  wasn’t buying that. The rocks that had  been thrown at the capsule home had been large ones. Large enough to cause a  humanoid damage at least. He was thinking of  Bulma , and with his thoughts his gaze naturally ventured in her direction. Ensuring she was safe. The cave itself was a mess of smells. No wonder  it’d attracted low life. Vomit and blood, it was inviting anything within a mile to come investigate. There  were surely more than under-evolved primates on this planet, too. It looked like  he’d be spending the rest of his time out here tonight. His wide back rested against the outside wall of the house, giving his leg some rest now that his adrenaline was  tapering off. The urge to cross his arms was desperate, and  Vegeta found a way to tuck his good arm under his  bound-up sling .  Scanning the horizon like a hawk, it must have been obvious that he had no plans of going back inside any time soon.

* * *

**Her POV**

She watched as he got up to investigate, thinking to herself he really  shouldn’t be already on his feet. Whatever, she supposed. It was his body he was destroying. Though some part of her  was irritated at the concept of him ending up fucking himself so badly that  he’d be unable to kill  Nappa and  Raditz when the time came. But she knew he was going to ignore her complaining, so she just watched as he went up to the door and opened it to investigate. The hooting became louder as it  was no longer  muffled , and louder yet at the very sight of  Vegeta . Just as their screams got louder, another rock went flying and shattered right against the doorway, though  Vegeta didn’t seem fazed at all. Her nose wrinkled and she got up, trying to get a good look but be cautious about any more flying rocks.

They got quiet again as they ran off, and as she decided it was safe, she walked closer to him to look, only to see only a few eyes behind some rocks further out from the cave. She glanced at  Vegeta , who had since rested his back against the wall with clear intentions of standing guard. She knew that look in her eyes. But she  couldn’t help but huff at him. What was he,  some kind of idiot ? Sure, he could keep those stupid monkeys away with fair enough ease, but she  couldn’t help but reach out and whack him on his bicep to get his attention and chastise him.

“You shouldn’t be leaning on your back like that, stupid! Be careful!  It’s a hard surface and I  don’t want you ripping open the already raw skin.  I’m not helping you again if you start bleeding again! I’ll  go get you a pillow if you ask nice, but you shouldn’t be leaning like that on  a hard surface .” She turned her head to look back out the cave again, to find that one monkey had since stood up and looked like he was climbing over the rock to get closer. As soon as their eyes met, he hollered and ran off again, some other monkeys following him. She noticed one of them had a makeshift tool in his fist that looked like  some kind of axe .  Gn … Great. Not that he could do anything to the house with a stick with a rock jammed inside it, but…. It was still a pain.  Maybe it was good that  Vegeta was so clearly intent on guarding.

“L… Look.  It’s getting dark.  I’m going to go to sleep. Are you just going to sit out here?”

* * *

**His POV**

His elevated senses of smell, sound, and night vision seeped into the cave. Every inch of the hallow became aware to him. Including the few remaining intruders. The one with the axe. However, a nasty whack to his arm interrupted him as good as someone flipping a channel.  What the hell was that for?! His crumpled glare asked.  Vegeta was a little surprised by her sudden distress over the state of his wounds.  Of course it made sense, though; she  didn’t want to patch him up again so soon. He had to admit… His shoulder blades were burning a little due to the pressure of his weight leaning against the wall. It was nothing he  couldn’t handle, and he would  have easily ignored the pain until  he’d completely forgotten if not for the woman’s scolding.

“What do you expect me to do?!” He bellowed right back, but quickly cut himself short once he noticed a sound. Movement. Again, the Saiyan's body went ridged and forward, pointing like a Doberman towards the ape that’d finally decided to show itself. He instantly honed in on the axe in hand. A weapon. He knew there was no way these creatures were, what had she called them? Harmless. Maybe that existed on her planet, but he’d never seen it in the rest of the universe. Lucky for the creature it quickly fled. Vegeta was definitely going to stand guard tonight. Well… Stand as well as he could. All of his weight was currently on one leg. He couldn’t very well stand on one foot all night; it’d be a complete pain. So reluctantly, the brute found himself sitting on the front step of the Capsule house, completely annoyed.   


“Well I’m certainly not going back in there,” he hissed, but then his dark voice tempered. “Do what you want… You’ll need that rest if you plan on trekking out tomorrow.” It meant yes, he planned on staying guard all night while she slept. At least he was sitting this time, and at least his back  wasn’t up against the wall.  Vegeta had his bad leg out stretched, resting his good arm on his good knee. It certainly  wasn’t the first time  he’d paroled his campsite while the others slept.  _ His men _ . If  anything, he felt comfortable, at ease in this familiar position. His own glowing lenses flicked across the horizon, then towards her, reflecting the dim light of the cave. He was an alpha protecting his turf.

* * *

**Her POV**

She rolled her eyes when he talked back to her, but  wholly ignored him otherwise. He mumbled something about her doing what she wanted, though he was planning  on staying outside– Not something that surprised her. Again, she rolled her eyes. Whatever. She  didn’t really want him inside all that much anyway, and she certainly  didn’t want to share a bed with him.  So, she closed the door on him and wandered off into the bedroom instead. Of course, she had promised to bring him a pillow. She eyed the large bed… He was nice. He wanted to stand guard, and had listened when she  chastised him. … Alright .  She’d be nice too, she supposed. She walked right up to the bed and grabbed a small pillow for his back, another for his head, and a thin blanket. It  didn’t really matter to her if he used it, but at least he  couldn’t complain she left him outside with no attention, right?

She walked back to the main area and opened the door again, staring down at him on the front step. She dropped the pillows down beside him, and dropped the blanket down right on top of him. Her eyes scanned the area; There  didn’t seem to be more monkeys, at least. Like she said, skittish.  Maybe they were  just scared of the house itself? Whatever. She  wasn’t going to try and figure out what went on inside the brains of those freaks.

“Don’t be killing anything or anyone unless you need to, got it? You can probably scare them off by throwing a ki blast. I don’t want to wake up to a pile of dead bodies. Those things clearly aren’t that dangerous. …They’re like you, they’re ugly monkeys with tails. Try to make friends.” With that, she shut the door.   


She walked back to the bedroom,  immediately undressing now that she had some privacy.  Hn … Sleeping with her wound was going to be a pain. Whatever, she supposed. There was no helping it. She dressed into a pair of short shorts and a  tank top and climbed into bed, trying to be as aware as possible about her wound. At the very least, she had to remember not to fold herself over too much in her sleep.  Gn … What a real pain in the butt. She closed her eyes, and did her best to go to sleep. What a day.

* * *

**His POV**

Once the front door to the home shut,  Vegeta didn’t expect it to reopen. But after a few minutes passed, he was surprised to see  Bulma staring down at him. And with pillow and blanket in tow. Well, he only had a moment to take it in before a blanket  was thrown over his person. Ruffling angrily through the fabric, the prince pulled it away from his head until it draped casually over his shoulders. Though he assumed he  shouldn’t be too surprised that  she’d kept her word. The girl had  provided a bed and pampered him back when they were on earth, but it was still unexpected that  she’d even bother. This  wasn’t Earth. It was different out here, things were different. …so why did she do it.

He  was left on his own again. Not bothering to answer her,  he’d given her little more than a hefty huff at her commanding he not kill anything. As if  he’d be told what to do, how to guard. This was his line of  life; he knew how to fucking handle shit out here. Still, he was glad she was in there while he was sitting guard.  Maybe it had been a good thing  she’d brought that blasted capsule house.  Vegeta had thought  it’d be a nightmare, a blistering beacon  signaling any predator  within miles, but… It was  actually coming in handy. It was keeping her safe, while it provided him with his  much-needed solitude.

It became easy to relax as the night waned. His usual level of aggression seeping out of his body and into the cool ground below. The sky was a deep navy blue and the moons were bright. Every tick, snap, and footstep was known to him. Footstep. Something was creeping its way into the cave. Four clawed feet, he knew that before it was ever visible. Eventually a large furry creature wandered inside,  led by the smell of dried blood. Its long  snout sniffed at the cave  floor, unaware it was  being watched . A few moments passed before  Vegeta made himself known. Not by a  ki blast like the girl had suggested, that was too loud. He  didn’t want to disturb her. No, all it took was a lowly, rumbling growl.

The creature’s head popped up, noticing the predator in the cave. There was nothing else the prince could have looked like in that moment. Crouched in shadow, growling, his reflective lenses brightly watching over his equally moonlit teeth. The furry thing darted back out of the cave with a fear for its life. It was peaceful after that, enough that the prince could drift now and again. Sleeping with one eye and ear open, of course. By the time the sky was beginning to light,  he’d propped himself up beside the frame of the door; a pillow softening the hard wall. His eyes shut, resting.  He’d never bothered removing the blanket.  Bulma had been right, really… And he wanted to heal sooner than later.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much to say. I think I forgot last week. It's hard to keep up biweekly. 
> 
> I hope you're all enjoying! I've noticed that since the movies aren't as new the fanbase has died back a bit. Though I've also noticed that I can complain about Super all I want and no one actually disagrees because no one seems to be bothering with it anymore. lmao
> 
>   
> 


	8. Planet of the Apes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma begins to pick up the pieces of their ruined ship. Vegeta simmers in anger over his broken state.
> 
>   
> 

  


**Her POV**

She slept through the night  fairly soundly . She did dream of home, and how terrible she felt there, but  somehow, she felt more free recently.  Maybe it was because her mind was so exhausted focusing on anything else but her own emotions. She hardly really dreamt at all, honestly. She did, but she  couldn’t remember the most of it, and it  didn’t feel as vivid as so many dreams often were nowadays.  So, when she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes, she felt… Truly awake. Not half asleep, not exhausted. Awake and ready to face the day.  She’d have to go back and check out the  pod . … Hn ,  Vegeta wasn’t with her in bed; he  probably really , truly stayed out there all night. She rubbed her head and pulled herself from the bed. She dug in her dresser for a moment for some clothes, and dragged herself straight to the bathroom.

She went to the bathroom, cleaned herself up, and checked out her wound after stripping her clothes. It looked nasty still.  Not unexpected . She left it as it and dressed, deciding it was best to leave it alone. …She  couldn’t help but wonder how  Vegeta’s wounds were doing, though.  He’d already healed so fast in a day; would a night’s rest make them look any better?  Hn … He better be out there, and not have wandered off. But just in case… She decided that it was  alright to be nice again to him. She walked over to the kitchen and  opened up the fridge, pulling out a box of powdered eggs and a box of cake batter. He  couldn’t whine if she made him breakfast, right? Besides, it was the least she could do, she supposed. …And she was hungry too, anyway.

She used the multiple areas on the stove to start cooking eggs and pancakes for the two of them, and as they cooked, she turned the TV on to watch. Another movie…  Hn , she never got around to the one drama  that’d been the chick flick of the month before everything happened. She clicked on it and let it play, a slight falter in her expression as she thought about how much things had changed in a matter of a few months. It really did feel like years at this point.  She’d changed so much. Here she was, cooking breakfast for the man that originally ruined her life. … It’s not as if she could make things any different.  She’d simply live with it.

… He’d probably go for some milk too, right? She had some powdered milk somewhere, too. She began rifling through the cabinets until she found it, and after a moment of grabbing some cups and filling them with water, she got to work on stirring them into real cups of milk. Her eyes moved toward the door. …Did he know? That she was awake? He had to have smelled the food by now, even through the door; she knew how keen his sense of smell was.  He’d probably get the message and pop through the door at any moment.

* * *

**His POV**

It  hadn’t been the scent of cooking eggs or even the soft  patter of the woman’s feet crisscrossing the kitchen  that’d woken the prince.  He’d been awake for a while, thanks to the slow  encroach of daybreak  intruding into the  cavern . It filtered past the cave’s mouth, crept up to his bare feet, and submerged him up to his closed eyelids in dawn’s light.  Vegeta had gotten a few fulfilling hours of sleep. He was just resting by the time the soft  patter of movement started coming from behind him -from inside the house.

And then it hit him. She was cooking something, something inviting. The prince  didn’t know what it was, other than something sweet and fatty (cakes and eggs). His eyes slit open, darting them towards the front door. He had claimed  he’d hunt something for the  both of them within a day or two. To return to ‘camp’ or ‘inside’ without a meal in tow felt a little unnatural. Each to their own had always been their Saiyan way. It turned his stomach to consider being cared for, for this length of time.  Maybe he’d hunt later.  However, … As the smell began to grow,  Vegeta was finding it increasingly difficult to stick to his guns and not just follow his nose. And stomach… It was growling with demand by now.

Andddd Bulma had been correct. Right on cue, the door handle began to slowly creep open and in snuck his keen Saiyan nose, leaving the blanket and pillow behind. A peculiar sight lay before him.  Bulma at the stove, looking quite at home in her earthling setting. Had she noticed his staring yet? He was  definitely staring at this point. Wide eyed and watching her every movement. From her mixing something in a bowl to the things  she’d arranged at the counter top.

A stack of food sat  nearby , and it called him closer. It was just begging to be eaten. Since when did this earthling do the work of a slave. She certainly  wouldn’t be caught dead doing this a month or so ago. But this wasn’t really slave work, was it? Another questioning glance. No, not slave work, she appeared too relaxed. He debated on just claiming it for himself as he normally would. Something stopped him though; another hard glance. She always complained that she  couldn’t eat much. Surely the woman  couldn’t finish all this off. It  couldn’t all be for herself. Something about that realization struck him like a bolt of  lightning to the gut. She was cooking for him, and looking pretty while she did so. And not just thawing out rations to eat together. It looked to be an actual meal. His brow skewed as he prowled across the kitchen.  Why the hell was this making him so uncomfortable? The sensation grew until  Vegeta did the only thing he knew to do to make the feeling go away. He stole a pancake off the top of the stack and began biting right into it.

* * *

**Her POV**

He  didn’t open the door until  she’d already finished creating a stack of pancakes and an entire plate full of eggs. She was busy between the multiple things that she was doing that she  didn’t bother to focus too hard on  Vegeta to notice him staring so hard at her with that strange expression. She did glance his way to notice that weird face briefly. What was he giving her that look for?  It’s like  he’d seen something unbelievable.  Hnf . Hadn’t she made food for him back on Earth? He was so weird. She ignored him, either going between her pancakes and eggs to looking at the movie playing. It was… Relaxing, to be in this kind of state.  She’d always felt on edge on Earth; why was it different now?  Maybe it was just because she had a goal to focus on. Either way, she  didn’t feel so paranoid. For once in a long while, she felt at home, in a way.

“I only have so much batter and eggs, but I figured we might as well enjoy it for the time being. Next time we stop by one of those big cities you go stop at from time to time, maybe we can buy more of this stuff so we don’t have to rely on hunting.” Or rather, he  didn’t have to rely on hunting. She dropped the cooked eggs  she’d finished onto a plate, and put more of the pancakes onto the by then,  very large stack. That was enough for the  both of them , right? Maybe  Vegeta’d be a little  peckish still, but that  didn’t really matter, anyway. He could survive without having an entirely full belly.

She grabbed a plate for herself and put a couple pancakes and a couple eggs onto it, before grabbing one of the glasses of milk and heading over to the sitting area again. The movie was starting to get interesting; she could eat it while she watched, she figured.  So, she delved into the food as soon as she sat down, enjoying the very Earth-like meal that reminded her a little of the home that no longer felt like home. It was a nice break before  she’d have to get back to that  pod and look around at it more.  Hn , hopefully they  wouldn’t be stuck here that long, but at the same time, she  couldn’t gate this that much. It was  fairly comfortable , at the very least.

“You want to watch a chick-flick? The rest of the food is yours. There’s syrup in the fridge, too. Get your food and come sit over here.” It was odd of her to bother to tell him to  come spend time with her, but at the same time, who else was there to talk to on this little planet? The monkeys? As if. Besides, he  wasn’t bad all the time. They had an interesting conversation before she went to sleep last night; she  couldn’t deny that. It seemed her relationship with him changed like the tides. Sometimes she was reminded of how much she hated him, other times she felt entirely comfortable in his presence. In an environment like this one, she  couldn’t help but just feel comfortable.

* * *

**His POV**

Alright , there was  definitely something unfamiliar about the woman this morning.  Vegeta watched, scrutinizing every odd movement the girl made around the small house. Snacking on his second pancake, he watched her flitter over toward the seating area, as happy as a cloud. Had she slept so well?  Bulma appeared rest, but there was more to it than that. Since he could remember, even after  they’d resurrected Earth, there had always been  a wariness to the female. Even at her most relaxed while on Earth he could sense it. A panic lying under the surface, suspicious of everything around her. There was a chance  he’d never seen her this relaxed, and it was confusing him. Her guard was still there he was sure, only hidden under the surface; somewhere he  couldn’t detect.

Not that it was a bad look on her. Wasn’t it her bright fire  that’d drawn him near in the first place? It was like a whole new side of it. Lighter, yet he still sensed she was as strong as ever. Very confusing. Hypnotic, even.  He’d been so  engrossed in his new observations that  he’d nearly tuned out what  she’d told him. Inviting him to sit with her. That also alerted him, but he chose to  comply with this one. The plates of food were swiped up into his arm,  _ all of _ _ the food _ , and  Vegeta planted himself in the very place  he’d been sitting the night before.  Maybe that was it. His side glance slid her way. The earthling did always seem to feel better after conversing for some reason. He shook off the idea, finding it too much for his unsocial brain to handle.

“There’s nothing wrong with hunting, you should consider it more often,” he grunted after a few mouthfuls.  ”However ,” he mentioned reluctantly, “Perhaps rations could be a second choice.”  That’s all he could say before he filled his mouth with more egg. It meant yes, he agreed, he inevitably saw the logic behind it. “This planet’s wildlife decided to wonder into the cave last night. Predators mostly,” he gave her a glance. He was telling her that little  tidbit for her own  well-being . She would be going out on her own today, best she knew what she was up against.

He had to admit this cooked, non-hunted food  wasn’t half bad.  Vegeta had taken to eating the fluffy pancakes like one would a burger rather than using a fork. Good thing he  hadn’t used that syrup  she’d talked about. It would have been a mess. His gaze flicked up to the chattering screen. What was this earthling on about? He clearly  wasn’t following. But that  didn’t matter. There was something about having a meal presented to him by a pretty woman that was soothing him nicely.

* * *

**Her POV**

“You say that, but good bought meat is definitely better.  You’re just used to eating what you catch. And eating it raw. It’s so nasty…”  Gn , she couldn’t help but remember the many months she spent sleeping on the ground and eating meat she’d just barely be able to cook while the other  Saiyans just stared at her like  some kind of alien . …Even if she was an alien. How they could just eat so much raw food was beyond her scope. Regardless, it was nice  he’d listened to her and begun to eat beside her. She glanced over at him as she ate, raising a brow at the stupid way he decided to eat the pancakes.

In the movie, the female lead and main character was confessing her love to the male lead. She took a drink of the milk as she watched, the male lead becoming clearly  flustered . The movie was cheesy, but she  couldn’t help but enjoy the kind of things like this. And it was far better entertainment than staring blankly at a campfire while the  Saiyans bickered in the background. No, this was something that felt like she could be herself for a little bit.

“… So I don’t know how long I’ll be out,” she began talking as she ate, glancing back at him for a bit. “It took me a while last time to get to the  pod .  You’re not  gonna ruin everything and make a giant mess, right? At least  don’t exert yourself. I don’t want to come back to a headache.” She took a few bites and stared at the television for a little while  longer, before she began talking some more. “I’m going to look and see what scraps I can find, and then I’m going to bring stuff back to tinker with it here to try and fix what I can. Maybe when  you’re strong enough you can physically move the  pod over here. I tried yesterday, but it was too heavy to move. I thought maybe it’d be easier since it’s round and all, but… Apparently even with it missing so much, it’s still too heavy.”

* * *

**His POV**

He listened as he ate, more focused on his food rather than anything else. It  wasn’t like there was anything he wanted to reply to anyhow. Her  chastising him again. The urge to argue swelled in his throat, but with his mouth and hands full of food, and knowing that  it’d lead next to  nowhere ,  Vegeta did little more than grunt. A lavished roll of his eyes came next. As if he  couldn’t take care of himself on his own. He  wasn’t in as bad of shape as he had been when  she’d pulled him up the side of that mountain. Again… The memory of what she must have done  wasn’t something he wanted to think about. That he could be in such a position. But… The remembrance of what  she’d done for him did soften him to her words, a little.

“You. Tried to move the  pod ?”  Alright , that got a little  smirk out of the bastard prince.  He’d even halted from taking a bite long enough to look at her. Just the image of her trying to roll that dense monstrosity was a laugh.  Vegeta was strong, but he knew how heavy that damn  pod was. It was one reason he preferred it. Hardy, much like his breed. Still, her dilemma pointed out yet another one of his faults, putting that sinking pit back in his stomach. He  couldn’t go retrieve the  pod . Not yet.  He’d known his limitations since  he’d stood up that morning to enter the house. His body cried to return to the ground, his leg punishing him for even stepping inside. Every ounce of energy he sucked down was instantly used up, keeping his levels low. He been good at disguising his anguish, but that  didn’t mean he  wasn’t feeling it.

“They’re meant to be heavy,” he arrogantly explained. “How else do you expect them to take a crash like that? The mere fact that something malfunctioned is outrageous,” his teeth grit. “The race that produces them are one of the most advanced in the universe.”  It’s why  he’d always been so skeptical towards her skills, however advanced they may be, when it came to repairing the  pod . His focus finally returned to his  nearly empty plates. Whatever sob story was on the television, he was barely listening. Well, until the girl went running into the male’s arms. How idiotic. Another roll of his eyes, before he watched a little more.

* * *

**Her POV**

“It makes sense, I just figured it was worth a try to see how easy it’d be to push. It’s heavy, sure, but it’s round.” Not that it was worth arguing over; it clearly  didn’t work. Regardless, she huffed and continued eating, her eyes drifting to the television. The couple hugged, but in the  background, one could see the male lead’s other love interest looking upset in a crowd of people. The two leads finally saw her, and she stormed off in a fit of anger and sadness. It was fairly  cliché , but there was always something so entertaining about movies like this.  Maybe it was just as a form of escapism… 

She finished her pancake and sat straight to watch more of the movie, before finally looking at  Vegeta again as he munched on the food. He at least seemed to be taking his time, despite the way he was eating pancakes like burgers and slurping down the eggs. He  wasn’t eating like it was the least meal  he’d have for months. She shifted her body toward him, trying to get a good look at him. His bandages  weren’t bloody; there was that, at least.  They’d lasted the night. She should  probably change it again at the end of the day if they had enough gauze, though. She shifted closer to him, pulling herself up until she was close enough to tug on his bandages.

“Does your arm hurt?” He was still clearly injured. His wounds looked better than they did before, but the skin was still undeniably raw and stripped away. She fixed the bandages again, bothering him some more by looking at his arm, still sitting comfortably in its  sling . The skin she  wasn’t really as worried about; it was his leg and arm, the things that had broken or sprained that were important. Those would  probably take much longer to heal. She had asked him if his arm hurt, but at the same time, she  didn’t need to. She knew enough about  Vegeta to know that if it  didn’t need to be in the  sling anymore, he would have thrown it off by now.

* * *

**His POV**

They’d both taken to their own style of zoning out. Of just enjoying their meal.  Vegeta hadn’t realized  Bulma’s drawn attention to him or her subtle shift in her seat.  He’d grown accustom to the woman’s fidgeting, the way she shifted now and again, over the months  they’d spent together in that  pod .  So, when he happened to steal a random glance in her direction, it was a surprise to see her staring at him so intently.  Probably not too differently from how  he’d been watching her that morning, really.

And then she began scooting closer. Touching him. “What the hell are you doing?!” The words ran out of his mouth just as she began tugging, inspecting his wounds beneath the rows of bandage. Ah,  that’s what she was doing. She was checking on his progress. Well, he  didn’t need it! And did she have to come onto him so strong with that shit?! Looking at him so sincerely all the while? It just made it worse! The more she crept up on him the further back  Vegeta leaned. After staring back at her a little too long, his head craned away, refusing to allow her to catch him feeling uncomfortably heated by the sudden onslaught of attention. And then she reached for his arm and the prince instinctively pulled it back, lifting it from its  sling . A fiery wave of pain burned up the main nerve in his arm, warning him that he  shouldn’t be moving it at all. His face winced, clearly refusing to give the sudden pain the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of the hardened man.

“Of course not,” his voice bit angrily. “It’s just useless is all!” Lies, but he hoped  she’d buy it. The arm in question had since fallen slack into its  sling . A simmer of silence fell over the brooding prince before he finally collected his reason. There he was again, a stone statue, allowing her to do as she pleased as if nothing had happened. Fine, if she wanted to look at him, fine. He just wanted that little mishap to be forgotten. Of  all of his injuries his arm was by far the worst. His leg he could manage from time  to time , the gashes in his skin were nothing in his book, but a broken bone. One  that’d pierced through  all of that tough muscle and through to the surface.  It’d take a while to mend. If it mended properly that is.

* * *

**Her POV**

At  first, he began to  whine . ‘What are you doing?!’ he dared  whine . She huffed as she glanced at him, and her brows  furrowed when he jerked away, injuring his arm with the way he snapped it away. He may have  hid the pain, but she knew goddamn well he  shouldn’t be moving his arm like that. She scowled at him as he suddenly decided to just sit normally again. Her eyes rolled, and she let out a sigh. What a pain in the butt. At least now he let her look over him, and began answering her questions. Blah blah… Useless… She finally sat straight again, satisfied with her look over his body. Whatever. He was healing, she could tell that much. She  didn’t know how quickly it was that  he’d end up healing– He said a week, but she doubted it. But he was certainly healing faster than a human might.

“…Anyway, I need to go find a weapon to take with me when I go out.” She pulled herself up off the couch and began looking through the various shelves and cabinets around the TV. It took her a second, but she pulled out a gun, not dissimilar to the one that Vegeta had given her before. It’d been lost in the fall, but she had always made sure to keep some kind of weapons on her from back when she liked to travel on Earth from time to time. Would it surprise Vegeta? Back before she knew so many people that guns were useless against, she found them a very important thing to keep around.   


“Can you sit and be good until I’m back? Like I said, I don’t want to come home to a headache.” She put the gun into the back of her pants and began searching through the cabinets again, this time producing  a very small pack of mechanic tools; screwdrivers and the like. It  wasn’t a capsule, but the tools in there were so small they were able to be kept in a pouch that she could shove into her back pocket. Satisfied, she walked to the front  door, ready to finally head out and start her trek. She gave him one more serious look before she headed out the door. She wanted to get this over with and get over there and get back again. And hopefully it would go satisfyingly. The monkeys did worry her; how much of a pain were they going to be?

* * *

**His POV**

At least things had gone quiet again. It allowed  Vegeta to mellow out, as well as take the advantage of peering over  Bulma’s own set of wounds. The bruises that lavished her skin were dark purples and blues. The bandage on her arm kept taking center stage in his line of sight, thanks to her reaching over him. He would have argued that she needed to be taking care of that instead of preening over him, but the brute was still too busy being cold and distant to open his big mouth. He  didn’t change tactics even when she got up, yapping something about a weapon, though that had pricked his interest. So, she was  actually going to arm herself for once?  Alright , he felt a little better about that; noting the barrel shoved into the back of her shorts. She  wasn’t acting completely stupid today.

Watching the door shut behind her, leaving on a ‘mission ’, was harder to  witness than  he’d initially  anticipated . Everything inside of him urged him to follow. To take charge. To track her progress. Even if that meant doing so in secret. It was only natural for the instinct to  rise up . To not want to be left behind. He knew he had to trust her. A lack of trust would just cause trouble in the ranks. Still,  Vegeta didn’t want her coming back with a  brand-new wound, all because he was a bedridden mess. __ When had she NOT gotten herself into trouble?  _ Guilt _ .

A heavy breath fell out of his lips,  attempting to steady himself back into his seat and  dissociate himself with his accusing surroundings. It was little more than sending  Raditz off on a scouting mission, he told himself. Craning his neck back, he rested his head on the back of the sofa. His mind pacing when his feet  couldn’t . Instincts circled like a caged animal. Seek. Hunt. Prowl. Defend. What could it hurt to just quietly prowl around? Surely his battered body could take a leisurely stroll. His damn body, giving out on him like this.  _ Anger _ . That was a whole other fiasco that wanted to wage war on his psyche. An entire army waiting at the gates of his steel-trap mind. It  hadn’t even been two minutes and already  Vegeta was growing impatient. This was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

**Her POV**

No monkey gorilla  people around, from what she could tell. Were they scared away by  Vegeta ? Good.  They’d been throwing rocks at the house before; she  didn’t want to get caught up in that. Hell, she could see a great deal of rocks sitting around the house, as if  they’d been trying for a while.  What the hell was up with that? She raised a brow but walked out the cave and went on her way, toward where she knew the  pod was. She pulled her gun out from the back of her waistband just in case, looking around to make sure nothing else was around. She  couldn’t help but feel like something would just pop out and hurt her now that  Vegeta wasn’t around. 

Now that she thought of it, this had to be the first time that he let her just wander off.  She’d separated from him plenty of times before, but  he’d usually relentlessly follow her. Would he  actually stay back at the house? She really had to wonder; would she get to the  pod only for  Vegeta to pop out and grab the  pod for her to bring back to the cave? That idiot better not pull something like that.  Grrn …

The walk was too long. She  didn’t want to waste her energy running, but she had to have been walking for around forty or fifty minutes, and she knew she  wasn’t close yet. At least she remembered where it was. Again, she looked around at the foliage and rocks that surrounded her. …Did she hear monkey shrieking again? She cocked the gun, grumbling under her breath. She really  didn’t want to deal with any problems today. All she wanted was to get to the  pod and come back with some stupid parts…

* * *

**His POV**

There was indeed someone stalking her through the  underbrush . A beast, as at home through thorny  scrubland as it was over rough rocks and sandy ledges. Keeping a safe distance was important. There was no reason to let the blue beauty know she was being  observed . That meant quiet footsteps over dead shrubs and creeping behind boulders whenever there was a suspicion that she may catch on. That she may get that sixth sense of being… Watched.

The distant howls of whooping monkeys rattled behind the hiking female. For once it  wasn’t a certain spiky haired bastard that was sneaking his way up onto the hiking earthling, but someone new entirely. And he was ushering in his friends. The closer  Bulma grew to the  pod , the more the little troop grew. Just as she predicted though, the timid creatures never clamored too close, nor showed themselves too willingly. Always ducking behind bushes or scattering whenever she turned her head. That is… Until she finally began rooting around in, whatever that round thing was.

Much like before, a rock went hurling straight for the side of the  pod . The loud  clang of stone against metal rattled across the vast terrain. That really got them excited. A cluster of the ape men stood right up and began jumping and hollering like a pack of wild chimps. Shaking their rods and axes above their heads, bounding aimlessly among themselves.  Maybe they simply enjoyed the ring of metal, or  maybe they were asserting themselves, who knew. Whatever the reason, the more excited they became, the braver.

The monkey-men seemed to be  hyping one another up with their whoops and numbers. The small group of hairy creatures pushed closer and closer, until they were only a few boulders away. It became silent again. Then the bravest of the bunch, a bigger male with a head covered in ratted hair and a beard full of dirt, crept right up behind the busy female once it looked like the coast was clear. With its spear in hand, it gave her a little ‘poke’ before scampering back. Was this female one of them, or something new? She looked different from them. And she seemed to have fallen from the sky. She was blue, the sky was blue, was this a piece of the heavens  that’d fallen to the ground? All eyes were on her, and they were watching intently.

* * *

**Her POV**

She got to the  pod with little difficulty. She saw it on the slight slope where  she’d seen it before, and climbed up some of the mountainside to get to it. It was hanging open just like before, broken with things tossed around, and she began to dig through it. She was aware by now something was following her; she heard enough monkey calls to know something was up. But she opted to ignore it, deciding the gun was enough protection.  So, as she  opened up the armrest to look inside and see what was in the  pod that  she’d left behind before, she was startled, but not too startled, at the sound of a rock smacking against the  pod . She stood up straight and looked to the source, cocking her gun to be ready. Of course, the ape-people again. Hollering and screeching loud enough to make her ears hurt.

The closer they got, the more she debated firing the gun in their direction to get them to run away. But they quieted down again and stopped getting closer, so she turned her head to keep looking before opting to start looking around the  pod ;  maybe some of the stuff had gone flying. But just as she stood straight again and turned her head to look around the mountain, she was startled again with a poke from a crude, barely-sharpened spear. She turned her head again to look at them. The one  that’d done it had run back to his  buddies .  Vegeta had growled at them before to get them to leave the  both of them alone, but was it  really worth it ? They  didn’t seem all that vicious, it seemed like. They were just staring. But she knew better to put her gun away. She kept it on her and tried her best to ignore them, though keeping them in the back of her mind.

She climbed around the  pod to walk toward some piece of shining glass or plastic she saw sitting in the mountainside instead. It took a bit of a struggle to get there, given it was so hard to walk on the slope, but she did, and when she picked it up, she found it was one of the drugs that she’d gotten from way, way long ago. The prostitutes gave it to her back in that one bath house. She wrinkled her nose at the memory as she stared down at the  vial . She wanted to toss it, but at the same time… She supposed it could come in handy sometime. She pocketed it and looked around some more for plastic, glancing briefly at the monkey people again. They were following here, weren’t they? What a pain. She held the gun a little tighter and began to head further up to where she saw something blue and white;  definitely non- organic.

This one was what she was looking for. When she got to it and picked it up, brushing off the dirt that had settled on it, she found it was cream for wounds. The cream version of the healing water. Exactly what  she’d been looking for. She debated applying it now, but… Somehow, with those monkeys, she decided it was  probably a bad idea. Her wounds  weren’t life-or-death and she  wasn’t bleeding out, so  she’d wait till she got back to the house. But for now, it was back to the  pod . She had real work to do.

* * *

**His POV**

By now there was a gaping audience watching the strange female from atop of one of the larger rocks that framed the mountain’s slope. It looked like the little troop of males had decided it best to  observe rather than follow when  Bulma began trekking around the side of the mountain, searching for something in the dirt. Was she searching for a cash of food? Funny, they  couldn’t smell the scent of buried, rotting meat on the air. The ape-men had no idea that the girl was searching for something other worldly. How could they? To them, she was simply an  odd-looking female  that’d fallen from the sky and now was the center of their attention.

Like a line of monkeys perched on a branch, the group crouched shoulder to shoulder, watching the woman return to that odd rock  that’d fallen from the heavens. One of the younger males had begun picking the ticks out of a senior’s tail fur, and another was wearing a familiar piece of battered armor.  Vegeta’s armor. The front chest plate  that’d gone missing, hanging from his neck via a rope vine.  They’d obviously explored the crash site for themselves, too. Then, the alpha male of the group, the one  that’d poked her with the crude spear, started  chutting and groaning to his fellow onlookers.  Ironically the grunting sounds  weren’t too different from the  one’s the  Saiyans often made. They were getting their brave up again, but how bad could that be? They were gentle creatures, right?

The alpha male crept closer, and closer still, keeping as quiet as he  possibly could . The female seemed to have distracted herself. What was she doing? Bent over in that odd hallow rock? He wanted a closer look. Glancing back at his fellow apes, the lesser males watching in anticipation gave him the gall he needed to do what he did next… The hairy  biped reached for  Bulma’s ankle, pulling her right out of the spherical  pod . And the crowd went wild!

That’s all it took to break the ice, to get them to pop that awkward personal space bubble  that’d been safely separating  Bulma from the group of primitive primates. After the big male had tripped up the unsuspecting stranger, the entire troop came running down from their rocky perch. Screeching  excitedly and turning aimlessly in place, they tried to muscle against one another  in order to get a closer look at their new guest. Now that one had been brave enough to touch her, they all were. Surrounding her like cats around a fish bowl, their ape like hands started prodding her everywhere. Tugging her hair, her cheek, her clothing. One had even grabbed her foot and began picking at the sole of her shoe. What strange feet she had.

* * *

**Her POV**

It only took a minute for her to get back to the  pod . She cursed herself for not grabbing a backpack or anything, but rested the cream in the  pod for the time being as she leaned inside to look at what could be salvaged. The control panel was off, but that was the most important part. She could work on it when she got home, she figured, as she looked it over. It  couldn’t be too hard to fix, and she was sure she could make it better with any spare parts from other things in capsule she had. At the very least, she could rebuild it from scratch.

She pulled out her tools from her pocket and popped open a screwdriver with one hand, taking another glance back at the ape people but  ultimately deciding they  weren’t worth it when they seemed to decide they only wanted to sit and watch from afar. She put the gun on safety again but held it, all while using her free hand to begin un-screwing the control panel. The screwdriver had been a special one she’d made some time ago; despite its size, it could grow bigger, and it had grooves that jutted out to fit the dimensions of whatever screw it was trying to pull out or put in.  So despite the screw being odd given it was alien, she managed  just fine .

She had just finished unscrewing all the screws when she could hear something getting closer to her. But just as she turned her head, the ape suddenly grabbed her ankle and forcibly pulled her out from the  pod . She gave out a shout, and tried her best to kick the thing away as multiple other apes began crowding around her. In a matter of seconds, all she could see were those freaky ape people with human-like eyes staring down at her with curiosity. Hey were grabbing her hair, pulling her shoes off, tugging her close, yanking her limbs– She struggled best she could, and as soon as she got the hand holding the gun (Which she’d been holding onto with iron strength) free, she quickly pointed it up in the air.

**_ BANG. _ **

The gunshot echoed through the mountainside, and she hoped that  that’s all she needed to scare them off for good.  After all, she figured it was possible that they still  weren’t entirely harmful; they seemed  mainly curious . They were pulling on her, not slashing at her. But her heart was still racing, and her breath had still been knocked out of her. She clambered to her feet to get a hold of herself, glad  she’d managed to get herself free from being in another situation that had become all too familiar in the last year or so.

…She  couldn’t help but wonder if  Vegeta would be proud of her at all. He always got that look on his face when she managed to hold her own against others; that look of pride. Her brows  furrowed . That asshole better not have followed her; she knew that kind of action was all too damn common for him. It was enough to irritate his wounds like  this, it would be even worse if he  weren’t even to help her.

* * *

**His POV**

BANG!

The apes  couldn’t have scattered faster if they tried. They shoved, tripped, and  outright screamed in terror. One nearly got himself trampled if he  wasn’t so quick to  scamper off with his  buddies , too. What was that noise?! It was more piercing than a rock slide. In fact, it nearly caused one! The apes had taken shelter back behind the rows of boulders  they’d once clung to. They  didn’t even dare peek around the rocky edges to peer out at the female after that. Not for a long while, at least. She was dangerous, wasn’t she?  That’s what most loud sounds like that meant. A warning, much like a roar or a screech. Whatever it was, it was frightening, and the troop had found themselves tucked safely away from the freaky creature yet again.

One big pair of prying eyes and then another, the bunch of primates just  couldn’t contain their curiosity for much longer. Things had quieted down. Had the blue female gone? The biggest ape, the leader, could hear her rooting around still. Being the one in charge, he took the initiative to be the first to stand back up on the rock, holding his spear as if he  was something intimidating,  but  in  reality, he was just as inquisitive as the rest of them. It  didn’t look like the blue creature was paying any attention to them. Rather, she was minding her own business again.  Maybe it was  alright to come out of hiding yet again.

A soft  hoot called out to the rest of his troop, alerting them that the coast was clear. Timidly, the hoard of ape-men began crawling their way back up and around the big rocks.  Maybe it was best to keep a safe distance, some of them decided, judging  by the way  they’d perched themselves atop the highest places. And then the monkey business began… Noise, lots of noise. Clattering, chirping,  hooting and banging. The easily board creatures had begun to entertain themselves, going about their business as usual.

Smudging fresh  droppings along the side of the biggest boulder in what could be called an artistic manner, was one way of marking their territory. Peeing off the side of the rock and onto a  competitor's head was another… The two dirty apes went at it after that, brawling it out over who owned the biggest rock. After what had just happened, their territory had to be marked! This was their place! The rest of the crew were making their way back to the oddly white sphere. A couple sat outside of the open door, picking their noses and fur, watching casually. Another was practicing his grunting in the most  attractive way possible (to him at least, this was a female they were dealing  with after all . Instincts were at play).

Then one of the youngest of the group, the adolescent male that wore  Vegeta’s once  preen piece of armor, was feeling particularly assertive that day. He rounded the back of the  beat-up pod . Was the female still inside? Would she growl at them if they got too close? Best way to figure that out was by driving her out of her hole, naturally. He took it upon himself to do just that by taking the armored chest plate from his neck and beating it against the side of the  pod . BANG BANG BANG! He could make banging noises too!

* * *

**Her POV**

Again, all the wanted to do was get the things she needed and leave as soon as possible before the monkeys got adventurous again. She went back to the  pod and put the control panel aside now that  it’d been pulled out, right next to the cream. She checked her wounds for a second, making sure they  didn’t rip anything. Her stomach wound looked a bit red, but it looked intact. Her arm ached a bit from the bruises being bothered. Otherwise, she was fine.  Alright . She began to look at the internal wiring on the other end of the control panel.  Hn … It was hard for her to tell what was wrong; these were new wires that she knew nothing about. Next time  she’d have to bring in a few capsules of similar objects just to rip them apart and make this thing anew. 

She dug her hands into the box, feeling for where the wires that were still attached to the control panel led to. She felt and was able to free a circuit board, which she set on top of the control panel. She could hear the monkeys yelling again outside and glanced back to look at them. …They were at least annoying each other, and not her. Well, save for the two that were staring at her menacingly, and the one that kept making grunts at her. She readied her gun again, wondering if  she’d have to shoot it again. She  wasn’t made out of bullets. She  didn’t really want to hurt any of them, but  maybe  she’d have to. Then again, who knew what would happen if she were to do that. They could retaliate.

“Gnn…” She tried her best to go back to what she was doing, putting her hand inside again to fell for another wire that led to… Ah, here it was, where she could unplug it. She turned and turned the wire until it came loose, and that again was freed. She began on undoing another one as well, but just as she did, she was startled by another kind of banging, like a fish in a bowl getting scared at tapping. She immediately stopped what she was doing and held her gun tighter as she pulled herself out of the pod, only enough to catch a glimpse of the ape at fault. Some small one, banging Vegeta’s old armor against it. Gn… As if she wasn’t already pissed it’d been worn down to hell before he could even properly use it.   


“HEY!” She held the gun up in the air again but  didn’t use it, only trying to get his attention and scare him. “Get away! Shoo! Leave!  I’m busy! Go somewhere else! Don’t you have huts somewhere or something?! Leave!” She spit in his direction and banged the gun a few times on the  pod before holding it up again. “Go! Go, go, go!” She just  couldn’t be afforded any kind of rest, could she? The thing was lucky she  wasn’t demanding the armor from it. Not like it really mattered anyway.  She’d just later have to find where she put the other armors so he could wear one again. That piece of junk  wasn’t going to do them any good.

* * *

**His POV**

They  weren’t listening, not at first at least. The masses kept getting themselves more  riled up the louder they got. Once one began jumping in excitement, the others followed. Hey,  maybe the blue female was trying to join them. She was yelling and waving her arm around  after all, too!  That’d really gotten the ape-men’s attention. All eyes were on  Bulma , mimicking her and trying to follow her lead, waving their arms above their  heads and screaming along with her. And  that’s when their leader spotted that thing that was in her hand. It was that loud bang weapon! Oh no, they  didn’t want that again. It was scary!

The leader started  hooting , waving his arm out at his troop of ape-men. The excited crowd simmered down to a wary staring bunch of big green eyes. What was their leader getting at? And then they realized, the scary female was asserting herself again. Not a single ape was standing tall after that. Each one ducking down, ready to  scamper if need be . They were all staring at that thing in  Bulma’s hand, especially their leader. It was his job to see to it that his little scouting group returned home safely. This creature that fell from the sky obviously had strange powers.  Maybe it’d be best to appease her.

A few more rough hoots came from the leader, and slowly but surely the many ape-men began to disperse in different directions. It was different this time, they  weren’t running aimlessly away for their lives. It was  almost as if their leader had demanded something of them and they were doing as they were told. The leader too, after giving a deep stare into  Bulma’s face, started backing up. He was heading towards the side of the mountain, the same where  she’d found the bottle of cream.

They were gone, but only for a little while. Sometimes one would return, and other times in pairs, but always with something in tow. The apes were bringing her things. Leaving little pieces of ripped metal and wire at the pods entrance. Was that what she was doing? Collecting these strange things? Maybe if they mimicked her and did as she did then  she’d keep from making that loud sound again. The  non-organic material was unusual to them, far different than their natural habitat, which made it easy for the hunter-gatherers to find among the rubble and rock of the endless mountains. After a little while, a small pile was  beginning to form of  odds and ends , though not all of it from the  pod . Big leaves, particularly interesting sticks, and smooth rocks also seemed to be offered.

* * *

**Her POV**

She grew increasingly frustrated when they began hooting with her, but it  wasn’t long until they shut up and just stared at her gun. She kept a  scowl on her face as she watched them all start to wander away. Finally, leaving her alone. She huffed at them again and went back into the  pod , continuing her work.  Hn … Where was this thing’s power source?  Apparently not inside the  pod where she could reach it, she decided after a lot  of looking around. A lightbulb went off in her head, however, and she raised herself from the  pod again to look outside; there was that section in the back of the  pod that looked like it could open just like this side… She figured it was for design, but  maybe that’s how  you’d get to it. She just had to figure out how to open it.

She looked around on the inside again, and it  didn’t take too long for her to find a hidden  latch underneath where the control panel was.  Of course they’d have something like this for emergencies! She pulled it, and just as suspected, she heard a ‘ clunk ’ as the “trunk” of the  pod fell open. She put her gun back in her back pocket and went straight for the trunk,  taking a look at what she could do. But only a few seconds of looking it over, and the monkeys were back. This time, leaving weird  odds and ends in a pile.  Definitely parts of the  pod , or things they kept inside the  pod . This is what REALLY surprised her. Some were even  rather large ; pieces of the open  pod that were missing, like parts of the door.  H.. Huh. Well, she  wouldn’t scare them away this time. But she had work to do.

…She  didn’t need to know how the  pod was created to know that someone had been messing with this side of the  pod . She could guess what massive black thing was the battery, but there were various other things that went unplugged. Not everything, but there were a few parts. There also seemed to be a wire missing altogether, that was painted onto the battery as a  directional tool to show individuals how to plug things in properly should things go wrong.  Hn … This was  definitely something to bring back and tell  Vegeta . She unplugged various cords and unscrewed the battery from the wall of the  pod , and went back around again to collect the stuff  she’d left in the  pod ’s seat. She supposed that was enough to work on for now. But–

Ah, the monkey pile. For some reason, now they were leaving sticks and leaves. Not particularly helpful. She pushed them out the way with her foot to look at what  they’d left.  Hn … She grabbed some of the intact wires, as well as some pods  they’d left. Who knew if those pods still worked after the giant fall with no soft protection, but she could try them at the very  least. And for the rest, she could leave it and go back to it later, the same with the  pod as a whole . 

She set off again, ignoring the apes and heading back to the cave. Though– Ah, of course. She was stupid. She had pods. She might as well try them. She shifted the things she was carrying and looked at them again.  Hn … 004… Well, she was in luck. She set it off and watched the motorcycle pop out of it. She was able to shove most of the things she was carrying into little bags situated on either side of the motorcycle, except for the  rather bulky control panel surface. That she shoved onto the sort of dashboard of the vehicle, nestled between the curved glass but far enough in front that it  wouldn’t get in the way of her steering. 

She glanced back for the apes again, her eyes scanning the area. She supposed they could really come in handy.  Maybe it was good she  didn’t shoot any of them. She got on the motorcycle and sped away, pleased  it’d be so much easier to get to the cave.

* * *

**His POV**

Silence submerged him, leaving him to wonder through the dark corners of his mind like a cautious  feline expecting trouble. Once the quiet set in, it was increasingly difficult not to give into thought now and again. The premise had already been explored. Every weak spot not only found, but checked and double checked. The cave itself had seen him a few times that day. Now all that was left to do was wait in that awful silence. It  wasn’t like the serine sensation of his now battered  pod . There was no soothing aura to welcome sleep. No promise of war to tempt his  goal-oriented mind. Only speculation and realization.

The realization of how badly he wanted to  decimate Nappa came first, and the speculation of how  it’d go down. That was an easy scenario to divulge in. But once a single demon of thought manifested itself, it became difficult for even his steel-trapped mind to keep the flood gates closed. He was forced to experience every moment of time like an endless foe. The inevitable happened as he lay there on the sofa yet again.  He’d already gone through the  left-over frozen dinners and paced as far as his leg would allow. He wanted to prowl again, but he knew that he  shouldn’t ;  he’d already pushed himself so far. He was  supposed to be resting, wasn’t he? Well, rest was the last thing that wanted him.

His restless mind tossed and turned like an ocean within him. As far as he was concerned, healing felt more like rotting.  That’s what this felt like, decay. He was useless, more so than  he’d ever experienced. Better dead than alive. He should be dead. Knowing the girl had taken mercy on him only made him feel weak. He  couldn’t even protect the girl.  It’d only taken one day away from her planet to end with disaster. Teeth grit and a heavy arm fell over his sights. He tried to tell himself it  wasn’t his fault. That  she’d been stupid, a weakling. But he knew that to be anything but true. And now that danger prone female had left him behind to decay in this comfortable prison.  _ Her _ , the more capable one. While his men mocked him behind his back. He could feel his heartbeat rising,  ki heating the sofa beneath him. This was outrageous, it  wasn’t meant to be this way!

The stress had weakened him, zapping him of that crucial energy needed to recover. Truth be told he  didn’t want to recover. Call it  self-deprecation , but he  didn’t deserve to heal, he deserved to be punished. Much like how  he’d often punish his men. Having fallen so far while knowing what he knew now, only made things worse. His mind turned back over the months. The things  he’d done. The knowledge of what  Kuriza had revealed about his people. The disloyalty of his men. And to the ways  he’d hurt the only creature  that’d kept by him. It turned his insides to rot, but more than anything it made him angry. Angry that that his  previous life now tasted spoiled in his mouth. Something had changed, something inside of him,  ever since  he’d picked up that girl. And it put him on guard to realize it. He  didn’t want to think about it. Let alone feel it.

Speak of the devil. He could hear something coming from the distance just beyond the cave. It started as an inorganic buzz that abruptly stopped, followed by the soft  patter of bipedal footsteps. It had to be her.  Bulma had returned to the dwelling. However, he never moved a muscle. She was the last thing he wanted to see right now. He kept his arm  tactfully over the bridge of his nose. Perhaps if he refused to respond  she’d assume he was asleep. He was too stuck in his own darkness to even consider being curious as to what  she’d found.  That’s how  she’d find  Vegeta when she opened the door. As a  husk of his former self, lying on the sofa and drowning in his own  self-hate .

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're at eight chapters already!!
> 
> By the way, I don't know how uncertain the future of this fic will be. I still have a pretty set idea of what I want in mind but the rp hasn't really moved at all and, without elaborating, I don't know if it will. I'm thinking if I catch up and it's likely the RP is not going to continue at all, I think I might try out writing just for myself. Usually I'm not Vegeta or Raditz and I prefer my friend's version of the characters instead, but I don't really wanna have this RP hanging forever and never go anywhere, y'know?  
> And I have some fun stuff for the future. Please let me know what you think- And that if I go that route, if you'd prefer the format to stay as-is, switching between perspectives constantly, or more like what you see with books.
> 
> I'm thinking also, I've gotten pretty decent at art. So when I catch up I might just post a sort of placeholder chapter with a variety of sort of concept art, so you guys can at least enjoy that.   
> (And allow me to plug, but you can find me at Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram under the username 'Cappucosmic'!)
> 
>   
> 


	9. Panic Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life at the deserted planet continues. Vegeta's ungrateful attitude grates on Bulma.
> 
>   
> 

**Her POV**

It  didn’t take her long at all to reach the cave with the motorcycle. What an idiot she was; why hadn’t she thought of this before?! Whatever. She pulled everything from the bags and re-capsuled the motorcycle, before picking up the capsule and heading back to her home. It took her a second to  open up the door with all she was carrying, but as soon as she did and walked a few steps forward, she closed the door with her foot. She dropped everything she was carrying on the couch, right beside  Vegeta , and gave him a one-over. What, was he sleeping? She guessed she should be resting, but…

“Hey! Wake up, look at everything I got!” She shook him and pulled out the cream from the pile, all but shoving it in his face. “I knew we had some of that in the pod, and I found some! It’s not enough to fix everything, but I figured we could at least fix ourselves up a little bit. So wake up, stupid!” She sat down next to him rather violently, shaking the couch to disturb him even more. …Maybe part of this was just the need to irritate someone like the monkeys had irritated her. But regardless, she did open the cream’s lid.   


Though, now that she was finished yelling at had a chance to look around, she… Did realize  he’d made quite the damn mess, hadn’t he? It  wasn’t too big of a mess, but there were empty boxes of frozen dinners laying everywhere. She scowled and  furrowed her brows in the same way that  Vegeta knew all too well by now, looking very, very irritated. And  all the more reason to irritate  Vegeta to make it equal.

“What, you don’t know what a garbage is? What’s wrong with you, huh? Being a little hurt doesn’t mean anything! Do you know what I had to deal with today? I had to deal with those stupid monkeys again! They kept bothering me, grabbing me and stuff like that! I had to scare them off and make them leave me alone by shooting off my gun. I dealt with so much stuff today, you better at least give me a little bit of time to relax instead of being a pain just like them. Though I don’t know, I wouldn’t be surprised. You’re both basically the same! Idiot ape people with tails.”   


Yeah ,  she’d clearly been annoyed. Elsewise,  perhaps she’d be more kind to him and worry about his wounds. But no, she instead complained about him bothering her in any little way possible. She got irritated by the monkeys, and was taking it out all on  Vegeta .  Maybe he just looked like such an easy target, laying on the couch while looking so dramatic.

* * *

**His POV**

There was nothing she could do, no amount of racket nor terror that could get him to break his sulking mood and get him to notice her. Not her bouncing on the sofa, and not even her waving the scent of healing lotion under his nose. If  anything, the knowledge that  she’d found something to treat him only made him want to clam up all the worse. As if the way he was feeling inside could be solved by something as simple as slathering cream over a wound. He  didn’t want it. He  didn’t need it. The man just wanted to lay there in silence.

Her endless rattling was starting to  grate on his nerves. The house had been so painfully quiet; keeping him acutely aware. The sudden burst of noise had put him in an even worse mood, a fiery mood, and his little earthling was just asking for it. But he  wouldn’t budge, even if the mention of her encounter with the locals had pricked his ear. The instant instinct to inspect her for injury nudging at his brain. No, no. Even the most terrifying of monsters  couldn’t get a reaction out of the prince on his worst days, as if this little female could make him  flinch . 

Vegeta was too annoyed at this point to notice if  Bulma herself was edgy. Slowly, finally, his arm crept just above his sights, revealing his horrible, shadowed glare. The kind of glare that punished for being disturbed. It  didn’t last though, and he darted his eyes away, falling slack on the sofa.  He’d known his facade was up. There was no way anyone could sleep through this. However, as he lay there refusing to speak, the melody of her happy complaining was stimulating his brain. He glared at the coffee table before him; it was a miracle it  didn’t burst into flames. He wanted to retaliate, to complain right back. To vent. She just  couldn’t let a sleeping beast rest and  sulk in solitude. The fact that  Vegeta had ever hoped that could have happened was folly from the start. He swore under his vow of silence, this woman could wake the dead if she so desired.

The pile of items she brought caught his notice, quietly investigating from afar.  She’d done well…  He’d known she would. Another defeated breath huffed from his chest as he sat up. He still  hadn’t looked at her since giving her that god awful glare. He  couldn’t . The way she acted so comfortable around him, it felt like pricks to his skin. The day had been filled with imaginations of how badly he wanted to kill those  that’d wronged him. So much so that it was becoming difficult to hold the anger within.  Nappa ,  Kuriza , even  Frieza and the Colds. Now with her sitting just beside him,  providing for him and offering to sooth his wounds, it just made him realize how bizarre it was for her to not feel the same. She should. She should want to kill him. The fact that she no longer longed for his death  didn’t make sense in his head. Even he was wishing for his death today. To leave the pathetic state he was in. He  didn’t deserve it. This helping business  wasn’t helping at all.

* * *

**Her POV**

She saw the death-stare he gave her. She was  well aware of it. That only made her more annoyed, and she gave it to him right back, though she was unsure if he saw; he glanced away so fast. However, she only stared for a moment before she turned her body to face him more and began to pull at his bandages. She tugged at them to start pulling them off, taking the opportunity now that he had turned enough to reveal his back.  She’d pull them off and slap some cream on it; that was the idea. Though her plans were foiled again when he sat up, still refusing to look at her. …What his problem, anyway?

She set the cream down on her lap and scowled again at him, before  willfully forcing off his bandages again. She tugged at them until they began to get loose, and slowly unraveled them until his back wounds were clear once again. It  probably wasn’t smart of him to be laying on his back that whole time, but from what she could tell, they were still healing. It did  baffle her;  Saiyans seemed to even just heal naturally at a much faster rate than humans. It was nowhere near healed, but it  wasn’t festering like before. She ran her finger over the skin, wondering what a human wound of the same size and type would look like in comparison. Probably entirely scabbed over by now, and still  somewhat bloody .  Hn … She  couldn’t help but wonder what made them different. Human healing relied mostly on slowly repairing tissues after clotting, but it seemed like  Saiyans didn’t have much clotting. How often had she seen scabs or bruises on  Vegeta ? His wounds just…  Didn’t act that way.

“You better be grateful.” She unscrewed the cap of the cream and took out just enough to lather on her  fingers, before she began to cover  Vegeta’s back. “I looked at this and resisted the urge to fix myself up first because I wanted to make sure we could cover you with it first. I  didn’t know how much would be left that  we’d be able to do it. So just be grateful that I didn’t bother using any of it on myself just yet.” Not that she  didn’t want to. While her goals made it  fairly easy to ignore the wounds, the multiple bruises, as well as the scraps on her under arm and the cut on her stomach  definitely were painful. If she looked around there was  likely painkiller somewhere, but  she’d neglected to. For  now, she’d just been dealing with the dull ache  she’d become accustom to since her time in that stupid prison spaceship.

She lathered the cream across his back, trying to get everywhere should could  possibly reach and watching the wounds fade away. It  didn’t all go completely, though; much like the time she got those chemical burns from the planet with acid water,  it’d take some time. Though it was hard to tell how quickly this would go away- as she noted,  Saiyans healed unbelievably fast. It was perfectly reasonable to assume that  he’d be perfectly fine in either a day or  two, if they had enough cream to reapply it. For the time being, she leaned away after  she’d finished caking him in the cream with as thin but as significant of a layer as possible,  attempting to keep as much cream as possible for later.

“How about your other wounds, huh? Turn over here so I can see your arm.  How’s that healing? You better not be moving it at all! I  didn’t help you just so you can wreck your body even more.  We’re going to get off this stupid planet of apes and  go find _ those _ two apes, and  I’ll be damned if  you’re going to waste my time by refusing to get better. You did good earlier, so you better keep it up. And  don’t pretend. I saw the pillows and blanket  outside; you were clearly using them.”

* * *

**His POV**

Oh, he  didn’t have to see the glare  she’d given him, he could feel it burning into his skin worse than the wounds on his back. That only gave  Vegeta all the more motivation to ignore her. His  scowl hardened and he refused to budge. And then a slight tugging started  at his bandages. As if this encounter  couldn’t grow any worse. The damn woman was trying to pry his bandages off with or without him. His posture certainly  wasn’t going to make it easy for her. Ridged,  unyielding , it must have been like trying to un-twine rope from a brick wall. Some part of the prince wanted to walk away, but getting up felt too much like giving into whatever strange feeling had been plaguing him. The heaviness of his mind  didn’t want him to move. He  didn’t want her to catch on either, to know he was being anything other than annoyed.

Then the cooling sensation of healing cream spread across his broken skin, and for the first time the prince flinched. Not at the cold tingle, but at the idea of her  actually helping him. How dare she, how could she? After all that had been dragging through his mind today,  Vegeta just  couldn’t handle it. The instant contact rolled his stomach worse than anything before. She must have felt the hard muscle of his back tense under her gentle fingers. Honestly though,  what the hell was she doing? It  hadn’t occurred to him until recently just how messed up this entire thing was. Had it been  Nappa or  Kuriza sitting broken, the last thing  he’d do is repair them no matter the reason.  He’d love nothing more than to curb stomp their faces into the dirt while reveling in their pathetic condition. They  hadn’t done half the shit to him that  he’d put the girl through. His teeth grit, finding himself more confused than ever. It  didn’t make any sense.

And then she said it… That  she’d saved the  balm for him. To be grateful. Ordering him around. He shot her the most barbaric glare he could muster, finally leaning away and out of her reach. Small growls slipping from his teeth.

“Oh, I’m wasting your time, is it?” He ground out menacingly. His bad mood was  rearing its ugly head, showing itself in full. “I don’t need any of that damn shit, so why don’t you keep it to yourself!” He argued. Instinctively,  Vegeta had held his broken arm at its mention. His terrible gaze had fallen to her bruised and battered body as soon as he turned to stand up, too. It  couldn’t be helped.  That’s what she should have been using the cream for. Her wounds, not his. Not only did he not deserve it for a plethora of reasons, she was injured while he could handle his wounds much easier. He knew that.

“You’re a god damn idiot,” his brows winced in anguish, looking intently down upon her now. “You should have killed me when you had the chance,” his voice dipped down low,  tapering into an aggravated rumble. The brute just  couldn’t take it  anymore , it felt as if he were about to burst with confusion. Finally, he made his swift retreat out the front door and towards the mouth of the cave.

* * *

**Her POV**

Oh, great. She could tell this  wasn’t going to be easy, with how he stormed off like that. Her nose wrinkled as he called her an idiot, feeling her irritation grow.  So he really  couldn’t be grateful! She scowled strongly at him as he looked down at her, all but asking for his death. What, he thought it was a chance to begin with? The best chance at “killing” him she had was just… Leaving him to die naturally. And of course, he  didn’t even just stomp away like a child after saying that, he  actually got up and tried to flee the house! She got up and followed him, gripping the cream bottle tightly as she followed him to the mouth of the cave.

“ So, you’re just going to call me an idiot like that, for trying to help?! Then meanwhile  you’re stomping around like a child, with your weight on your hurt leg and refusing to let me help you! Stop it and get back inside, stupid! How the hell am I supposed to heal myself up if you’re acting like this rather than letting me get it over with already?!” She stomped right up to him, one hand on her hip as she walked right in front of him to look him in the eyes. She gave him a light shove, though she knew  it’s not as if  it’d hurt him at all. It was  mainly just to make a point, the same as it was every other  time she’d shove him angrily.

“Why would I have even killed you in the first place, huh? What good would that do for me here?  So I get off this planet and go back to having nothing to do?  You’re really going to let some moron that nearly killed us just go off on his way? I want him dead way more than I want you dead,  Vegeta ! And now’s my opportunity to see you kill him! Hell, I wish I had sabotaged your  pod back when you still treated me like absolute shit! I wish I thought of that, because no matter what would happen,  it’d be a win for me no matter what. But that  didn’t happen, so here we are, and  I’m just happy I get to see one of these assholes die. And if  it’s any of you that I want to die, it’ll be  Nappa .” Sure,  they’d all been sickening pieces of shit to her. However,  Vegeta had at least turned around, and  Raditz had at least listened to  Vegeta .  Nappa was not only the worst  in the amount of pain he caused her, but he would do things to her regardless of what  Vegeta told him.  Of course the man was on the top of her list of people to kill.

“You’re going to get back inside.  You’re going to let me fix you up.  You’re going to shut up and stop wallowing in self-pity. And you’re going to let me get us off this planet so I can see you kill that son of a bitch.” She quieted  down, her lips pursed as tightly as they could. She was naturally stubborn, but this was a  particular kind of stubbornness. It should have been obvious to  Vegeta that she  wasn’t about to take ‘no’ for an answer. What was he going to do if he  didn’t listen to her, anyway? Hobble around her and go off to join the apes  she’d had a run-in with? Go back inside, which was still listening to her, and lock himself in the bathroom?  She’d unscrew the door if she had to. No, she  wasn’t going to let him just get away with throwing this tantrum. She kept her ground, staring at him and daring him to challenge her. While once upon a time he was the one in charge,  she’d long since found herself. She  wasn’t going to just let him do what he wanted. She was going to get her way on this one, one way or another.

* * *

**His POV**

It just  wasn’t over yet, was it. She just had to follow. A frustrated fist slammed into the side of the cave’s entrance, cracking it under the blow. The woman’s excessive ranting was tempting him to bite back, to tell her exactly how stupid it was to aid him for any reason. He met her face to face. There was a venom in her that he  hadn’t seen for some time.  _ This felt good, this heated moment _ .  Maybe she was bringing him back to his old self… His chest rose with hot breath, gusting it over her near features. Sharp words nipped at his tongue, just waiting to lash out. Then, his mouth parted with wicked intent… Just in time for her to reveal that  it’d been sabotage all along. 

Vegeta’s face dropped from intoxicated spite to mortified surprise. His posture reeled back, digesting the  new information .  It’d been no mistake that  they’d fallen from the sky. Any half-assed hope  he’d been hanging onto, that his men had some  god-awful excuse for leaving out on their own, was stomped out on the spot. He  hadn’t just been abandoned; the morons had actively tried to kill him. And not just their PRINCE but the female too. Anger surged over him in waves, but  Vegeta didn’t have time to process it. No, the woman in his face was still on a  tangent . It only took him a moment to regain his  pompous composure; his horrible glare right back on his royal face.

There was nothing he could say that would topple the information  she’d just spewed at him. As much as he hated to think it, she… She may have had a  point after all . If she left him to rot,  there’d be no punishment for such treason upon his men. And it sounded like she wanted the man dead just as much, or dare say more than he did. To hear her long to see _ him _ kill  Nappa , it only made disagreeing with her worse.  _ It felt  _ _ kind of good _ _ to hear her say that _ . Damn this woman and manipulating him twice now. How many times had he thought that phrase now? That ‘she was right ’. He hated those words, but she was- No, he  wouldn’t allow himself to think it again.  Maybe he had a little pride left in  him after all .

Then she really put the bastard in his place. It was all  Vegeta could do not to stare at the woman. Though he was sure ‘woman’ was hardly the word for her.  He’d been subject to her tongue many a time, but  he’d never heard command from her such as this. How could his eyes not widen a little, or his heart  thump a little faster? The dead set glare she was giving him too, those impressive fiery blues, it quieted every voice in his head. She was the only one in his mind now. He may have been a ruthless fighter, a monster, a prince, but he knew there was no saying ‘no’ this time. The queen had spoken.

Vegeta’s brows dropped into a hard line, his mouth tugging into an unamused frown. With his shoulders slumped in the most horrible, rebellious fashion, he made way back towards the Capsule House without so much as a grunt. Sure, he did look back once over his shoulder, but only to glare in her direction before  returning back into the home. If this is what she wanted, for him to patch himself up and finally kill off  Nappa , then so be it. That meant the bathroom was his next destination,  he’d seen a roll of bandage there just earlier that day.

* * *

**Her POV**

She watched as he reacted to her words, slowly going from looking as though he was about to shout back, to slowly  submitting to her will. He shut his mouth and eventually walked back inside, though he  didn’t look the least bit happy about it. She huffed and followed him in, glad  he’d straightened out for the time being. She  didn’t have time to deal with him being so  huffy ; she had other things to deal with. She wanted to clean him up, take a quick shower, eat, and then work on the stupid  pod ’s control panel to get it working properly again.  So when she followed him inside, she also followed him straight into the bathroom, not giving him any room to be by himself for a second. Not until she fixed his stupid wounds like  she’d been demanding of him.

Okay! finally,” she sighed as she walked into the bathroom with him, setting down the cream next to the sink. She grabbed onto his tail and yanked on it as  she’d done a few times before, knowing it  wouldn’t hurt him enough to mean anything, but would do the job in getting his attention. She stepped up to him and forced his  splint from his arm, getting it free of all  previous wrappings to take a good look at it. It was still  gory looking; it  hadn’t healed as well as his back did. That was to be expected, given his bone had been  jutting out of it. Despite her irritation at him, she at least looked it over as gently as she could, not wanting to disturb it more. The cut on his arm that the bone forcing its way through had left was still open enough to look  rather revolting . 

She reached for the cream again and opened the jar. As soon as she had some of the goop on her hand, she began lathering it over the wound, hoping that  it’d do the best it could.  Maybe within the week  it’d be a scar. She could only say so much for the bone itself, though. It  wasn’t like this kind of cream could reach it, right?  She’d been healed by this stuff plenty of times before, but those were bruises and scrapes. Not broken bones. Hell, she was  rather surprised to think about it.  She’d never really broken a bone with them, had she?  They’d certainly dislocated her bones before, but never broken one. She supposed her body was just hardy in its own way.

“You need to sit down on the side of the tub again so I can take a look at that leg that you keep insisting on standing on. You should feel glad if it turns out you haven’t made it considerably worse. You haven’t been taking any pain killers or anything, have you? You shouldn’t just be tolerating the pain to stand on it! The pain exists for a reason, it’s to tell you not to do something. But here you are, insisting on constantly using your leg as if that helps anyone at all. Should I strap you to a highchair? I’d give you a wheelchair, but that feels too mature for you.” Despite him ultimately listening to her, it was clear she was still pissed off at his previous outburst.    


“I swear…”

* * *

**His POV**

There would be no leaving the  hen-pecking woman any time soon, would there? The  haughty prince was beginning to feel like herded cattle. He  wasn’t making his own decisions for himself anymore, was he? (Of course not, did he have to ask?) Despite  attempting to shut the bathroom door behind him,  Vegeta knew the quick paced footsteps would  fallow him right in. He ignored her, clearly. His back turned and his hands still searching for the gauze.  That’s when the not so gentle pulling of his tail forced him to shoot a look over his shoulder. It was a clever way of getting his stubborn attention.

And then she began revealing his broken and bruised arm. The temped bathroom air was cool against the skin  that’d spent so much time wrapped up in those dirty bandages. The large gash his bone had created was obvious. The bruised bicep was muddied with gobs of dried blood and sweat that cracked open whenever she moved his arm to inspect it, exposing the torn muscle within. Then her pleasant hand began lathering on the cream. He  didn’t want to admit it, nor did he believe he deserved it, but it felt damn good. The pain  he’d been quietly carrying around in his arm slowly faded away. The skin began to stitch itself together before their very eyes, allowing the bone better chance to heal. He never reacted out of agony, only watched with his own subtle curiosity. He wanted to know the full extent of his damage. Gruesome sights were a daily occurrence in his life. What was odd though was  witnessing it on himself. That was a new one, like an experience caught out of the twilight zone.

A hot  gust of air filled the girl’s face at her sarcastic commands.  He’d had enough of being ordered around for one day (or so it appeared). But despite the wordless glare  he’d given her, the ape began tugging down his sweat pants then sat on the tub’s edge. At least he kept the boxers on this time, but even that  wasn’t enough to hide the massive bruising that coated his left leg. The pooling blood under the skin had turned the entire  appendage black and purple; a testament to how badly the muscle had been  rendered useless. How  he’d even been standing on it was a miracle. A sheer force of will.  Vegeta’s eyes then shot to the girl, then to the bottle of cream. His leg could wait. Besides, there was no damn way he was allowing her to use that whole damn bottle on him. Before she could protest, he snatched it.

“You first,” his harsh voice roughed out. Without giving her a second glance, he removed the tape that hid her slash mark.  Vegeta’s finger tips were then coated in the healing cream, sliding them carefully across the stitched wound along her belly. It  wouldn’t take much, and because it was so fresh, it  wouldn’t scar too badly. He plucked the un-needed stitches from her skin next with surprising care.  Last but not least , her bandaged arm. Finally, eye contact. Smoothly, he reached for her arm, unlacing the bandage. The tingling cream glided over her bruises and scrapes. Be it her arms or legs, his hand was mindful not to miss a spot. Once the wounds had faded, then and only then, would he return the cream.

* * *

**Her POV**

She could tell he was still irritated; they had that in common. She gave him a dirty look after he responded to her pulling his tail, and  continued on with what she was doing. Of course, the cream  couldn’t do everything all at once.  Similar to the stuff on his back, while it could heal, it would take a while. But she could see action right away this time, maybe because it was such a bad wound. It fizzled and bubbled and she could swear she was seeing some of the skin already  meld together. She recalled the acid rain’s effect on her skin.  Maybe the cream did more for direct wounds and couldn’t do as much for already destroyed skin? It could only repair the living cells? She supposed she  shouldn’t be  speculating if she  didn’t truly understand how it worked. Either way, while she  wasn’t sure if it got down to his bone, it fixed at least the large gash in the arm. That was something.

He listened to her next about getting down onto the side of the bath without his pants, much to her appreciation. Looked like  he’d be a little more decent now. She eyed him for a moment before going straight to that leg. It looked nasty, bruised  beyond belief . She  didn’t even know  Saiyans COULD bruise like that. She got off  very easy , now that she thought about it. Things could have turned out far, far worse. She was lucky she  didn’t have more than some  scraps and bruises here and there.  He’d done well with how much he protected her. For how grumpy and annoying he was acting, she  couldn’t wonder if that even occurred to him. She could easily have died, even just withstanding a fraction of what he did. He somehow not only managed to prevent her death, but also managed to prevent any serious injuries. But just as she stepped forward to see if the cream would even help with that level of bruising, he grabbed her and pulled her close, mumbling a ‘you first.’

“Hey!” She scowled at him at the grab, annoyed that  he’d taken the cream from her. Though it  wasn’t like she could complain; she knew what he was doing. He pulled the tape off her wound and she stood with her hands on her hips as she watched him. The cream was applied to her belly, where, much the same way as the gash on his arm, it began to heal with relative quickness. It was painful to have him tug out the stitches, but she got through it. But that  wasn’t all; he  wouldn’t let her off with just that. No, instead he continued by pulling her close enough to get at her arm. And made eye contact finally. She  didn’t say a word to him as he tugged off her bandages, though she glanced back at their mess and realized how much trash  she’d have to clean up now from all the bandages lying around everywhere. He began pressing the cream there as well, where  she’d had some real damage done. It felt nice to have it applied; she  hadn’t been paying attention to it very much, but the wounds had been painful.  She’d just been powering through. And those wounds already had preexisting wounds, from when she was running from that man-eating monster in the prison ship.  Gn … She wrinkled her nose in remembrance of that thing.

Once  he’d rubbed her down  nearly all over, pushing hard enough to ensure her bruises would fade as the blood pooled under her skin dispersed, he handed the cream back to her.  They’d both seemed to try and preserve it as much as possible, as there was still a good deal left, though  she’d have to be cautious of it until they were out of this planet.  Hopefully they  wouldn’t end up hurt again.

“…So, are you fine enough now that I can complain about those stupid monkeys while I try to heal you up?” She had noticed her bruises  hadn’t cleared up so fast, not like the direct cuts and scrapes.  Maybe the cream just had to soak in. It was silly that despite using it so often, she still  didn’t understand how the topical cream worked.

* * *

**His POV**

Silence fell between them as he worked the cream into her milky skin. A sly glance allowed him to catch the look on her face; the one that meant she was dreaming up something awful. It scrunched her nose into something perfectly unpleasant. Despite the terrible mood he was determined to be in, it was exceedingly difficult not to crease the slight hook of a  smirk into his mouth. When he  assumed she  wasn’t aware, of  course. How she was  remaining so dreadfully in charge both baffled and impressed him. The ravenous thoughts  that’d plagued him that day still hung in the back of his mind like the reaper of death. It was clearly her goals that were driving her now, despite what he had done to her.  That’s when the bastard of a prince realized: she was acting more Saiyan than him in the moment…

“Is there really anything I can do to stop you?” Sarcasm was thick in his voice when he looked to her; at least his saucy personality was shining through again. His mouth pressed into a firm line when she took the cream back into hand. What she did next, he  didn’t seem to care. The floor suddenly became incredibly interesting, at least judging by the hard stare he was giving it.  Perhaps he just  didn’t want to acknowledge he was giving into her help yet again, or that his leg was so damaged that  it’d take some doing to wipe away the bruising, if it could be helped at all. Where had his mind wandered to of late? No, not just of late. This had been something spreading within him for a while now. Something  he’d do anything to push away for good. It  wasn’t natural. Yet, for all it was worth, it kept creeping into the corner of his mind like a bad plague, tempting him to notice it.

“What am I,  Bulma ?” The question slipped out of his mouth before he could choke it back down. He swallowed despite it, looking to see if she even registered, he hoped not. That  hadn’t meant to be said allowed, but his brain craved a decent answer. Who better to ask than the only creature he  deemed worthy of an  opinion? Still, he hunkered down between his shoulders as a defense mechanism; the question rattling in his own skull. What was he? He was a proud Saiyan, of course. But then why did his recent choices leave him feeling so unnatural? He was the prince of his people. Which was what, two deserters? What kind of prince did that leave him to be? He was a conqueror… Who had resurrected a planet? He was a man. That allowed a female to order him around… For whatever reason that may be.

He glanced around the room, hoping anything would steal his mind away from him. The girl’s figure was  a difficult thing to miss. Despite how  he’d belittled himself, the prince  couldn’t completely ignore his inner beast. His gaze refused to pull from her despite himself. Watching the beautiful Earthling  fawn over his wounds so  insistently was both disgusting and enamoring.  It’d be a lie to say it  wasn’t peace inducing. Her fingers over his battered skin,  the color blue so  near to him. The curve of her side bending so near.  That’s when he noticed it, something sticking out of her back pocket. That  couldn’t be… It had to be. It was one of those damn vials from the  pod . An aphrodisiac. But what the fuck was she doing with it? Oh, he had to  taunt her over this. But first, he had to make sure. A quick snatch! Later, and he had it to his nose, sniffing it.

* * *

**Her POV**

“Of course not,” she replied to his comment as she  knelt down between his legs. She pulled some cream from the jar and she began rubbing his leg, wondering how much it would even help as she did so, but filling the time with talking about the stupid apes. “They’re weird. I told you they grabbed me at some point. I thought I was going to get sexually assaulted by a band of monkeys. But after I pulled out and shot the gun, they left me alone for a while. Almost started bugging me again, but all I had to do was hold the gun up in the air and they stopped. Then they started… Leaving me stuff. Like, pieces of the  pod , but also sticks and leaves and–” As she was speaking, he randomly butted in with a… An incredibly stupid question. She  furrowed her brows as she stared at him. What? What was he? The hell kind of a question was that?

“You’re an annoying ape, just like the other ape men I’ve had to deal with today. Go join their troupe,” she replied, putting a little more  elbow grease into his wounds.  Of course she  wouldn’t respond seriously to a question like that. The hell did he even mean by that? Now  wasn’t the time to be having some stupid emotional breakdown and wondering where in the universe you belong. They had goals to achieve. Things to  accomplish . She grumbled under her breath as she healed him, repeating his question in a  somewhat mocking tone quietly. The bruises were  fading somewhat , though, so at least there was that. One less problem to deal with. It may take some time, but now she knew it was possible to heal him.

“So how does this cream even wor–” Just as she was going to ask her question, she was interrupted yet again. This time, he’d noticed the vial in her back pocket and stolen it from her, sniffing it. She shook her head a little and continued her work, finding her arm getting kind of tired. Those were bad bruises. She probably couldn’t even fix the muscle all that much. Well, they could see how they felt afterward. “I found that when I was looking around the pod. I figured, you know, whatever, I have pockets. Why not pick it up? I don’t know how it managed to survive the fall;it’s got to be a pretty hardy vial. …Remember back then, you kind of just kept a big amount of them sitting inside the pod. We never cleaned them out or anything like that. So I figured why not bring them back? …Unless they expire or something. It’s been a few months.” She shrugged. If she recalled, it just made one horny, right? Not that she really cared about doing that all that much, but… Well, why did she even pick it up, anyway? She just sort of…. Did.   


“Don’t end up inhaling too much of it,” she told him, somewhat wary in the back of her head as to what could happen. Even if they were on much better terms, the idea of him doing something was still in the back of her head. It was still possible he could try to do stuff to her. He was still a Saiyan and still leagues stronger than her, after all. Still, she kept trying to massage out his muscles, having noticed the worst of the bruises fade from a deep, disgusting purple to more of an orange. It didn’t help that the bruises weren’t even just so deep, but that they covered such a large area, too. Her arm was getting tired. So, just to give her arm a bit of a break, she leaned back and looked up at him.   


“The  cream’ll probably work even if we just let it sit for a while, right?”

* * *

**His POV**

Thank Kami the earthling had been rambling so much that  she’d nearly rolled over his unintentional comment completely. She bit back with sarcasm, something to his relief. It meant she was listening about as half as well as he was. What had she said? Something about being attacked had  definitely caught his  mind's eye, but beyond that he  hadn’t been paying attention. That is until she told him not to inhale the aphrodisiac.  Vegeta’s eyes widened, gritting his teeth into stunned aggression. Instantly, he pulled the  vial away, capping it. His tail swished behind him in the empty tub, collecting himself. It  wasn’t bad enough that  he’d been  attempting to not notice the beautiful woman between his legs, rubbing his thigh, glancing up at him… Wondering if she was aware how  kittenish it looked from his angle. But to mention the aphrodisiac… It was best not to prod that animal, no matter how well  he’d locked the beast away in its cage. He looked away.

It was a bit odd, having her so adamantly see to his wounds like this. Normally,  Vegeta would have grabbed the container and patched himself up by now, but  he’d already tried to slip away once today. He knew there was no trying to get out of it a second time, not unless he wanted all hell to break loose. He refused to appear happy with this at least. His face pouting hard and stern. However, it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay as pent up and angry as he longed to be with her rubbing his bruises away like that. If he  hadn’t been so dead set in being stubborn, there was a good chance he  wouldn’t have noticed their cooperation at all. It felt easy, too easy to look after one another like this. The animal inside of him groaned again.

The chronic pain  he’d been enduring the last few days was dulling. It ached every time she pressed her fingertips into the ridges of his mangled muscle, but it was a good ache. The kind that told him that it was working, that the bruises  weren’t the only thing vanishing thanks to the cream, but the knots and swelling too. Then again,  maybe her fingers had something to do with that too. It was terrible how much he was looking forward to her touch. Quietly hoping  she’d massage her palms over  particular areas that were giving him trouble, but too proud to suggest it.  He’d been staring. Since when had he turned his head to look at her? The prince  couldn’t remember, but now that his sight was locked on her it was impossible to glance away.

“It should,” he finally answered her, watching his flesh turn from a deathly black to a more manageable hue. “Save the rest. We may be needing it,” he said far too  coldly . There was always danger whenever the two moved across the universe.  Vegeta really  didn’t want to be caught without it a second time. Standing to his feet proud and tall, his vision traced down his broken arm. Still useless, but at least workable now.  He... He owed a lot to her for this,  didn’t he. There was some seriousness in his eyes when he glanced her way. Did she know how much  she’d accomplished in the last few days? More competent than his men could have ever dreamed of, she was becoming quite the leader. He may not have known how to feel about it, but he certainly  didn’t feel disdain. He always knew she had it in her, there was pride in that.

* * *

**Her POV**

She  couldn’t help but become nervous. He was watching her strangely, with that familiar  glint in his eye. She stared back at him as he answered briefly, pulling the  vial away from his face. At least  he’d listened to her, but at the same time, she was wary of him having it. She really  shouldn’t have brought it back. Why did she even bother? She pulled herself up from the ground, debating grabbing it back from him. But even just the thought of what could go wrong from here made her resist the urge, the voice in the back of her head telling her  she’d regret it if she were to do something like that. Instead, she stood and looked down at him, feeling a knot in her stomach. Why did she still even get nervous like this? Nervous in her own capsule house, around the one man that she thought understood her at all. But he was still the man that…

“I want to take a shower,” she told him, turning away to start cleaning up the bandages. Sure, she could bandage his back again, but it  wasn’t bleeding. He had no more cuts. Neither did she. The cream ensured that much.  So she tossed all the dirty bandages and came back with the  sling for his arm that had been left on the floor. She handed it to him, rather than put it on him outright– He could do that much, couldn’t he? He was a grown man. Things had grown awkward between them quickly, just at the simple gesture of grabbing the stupid  vial she’d decided to bring back.

“I’m going to take a shower, then I’m going to eat, and work on that control panel. So if you could go sit outside or something…” She may not have said it, but the implied was there: so he was out of her way. She didn’t want to be around him at the moment; she wanted time to herself, to calm down. Even if nothing had actually happened, she’d felt her blood pressure start to rise at even just the idea of something going wrong. Even if she didn’t necessarily need to walk on eggshells around him, she still felt that certain times went too far. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d abused her so much. It hadn’t even been that long ago that she was testing her boundaries, seeing how far she could go with him. There was still a caution; still a wonder of how far she could go before he’d get sick of her and pin her down again. He was a Saiyan after all, right? It’s what they did.    


That’s what  she’d been used to getting told, at least. That  Saiyans were different; they loved bloodshed and  pillaging . …Why didn’t she just stay at home? She was an idiot. She  didn’t belong around someone like him, even if he  was the only one that could understand where she was coming from. The only reason he could was because he was the one to do all of this to her in the first place. She was no longer even  attempting to make eye contact with him. She stared  away, her brows  furrowed as she waited for him to take his leave.

* * *

**His POV**

The air of silence sliced through him like an icy blade. She still feared him, he could see it in the way she turned away from him. She was close enough to touch, but the distance between them felt so vast that he was sure  he’d never reach if he tried. Not that  he’d want to. Oh no, any thoughts he may have been having were gravely pushed aside. Refusing to acknowledge his own little voice in the back of his head, the one that told him what he could do to her or how he should be acting out. In that moment they both knew what he was very, very capable of. Would he do it  though ? Honestly, only  Vegeta knew the answer to that. He could hardly blame her for growing so cold.

He  didn’t need to be told to  leave; the prince  couldn’t stomach standing in that bathroom another minute even if he had to. They were both growing bristled, only  Vegeta had the means to show it in the form of his burring tail. As soon as the  sling was passed to him, it was buckled around his thick neck and in no time and he was already closing the door behind him. No second glance, no look of caring or concern. He simply, vanished. It  wasn’t until the bathroom was completely sealed off to him that  Vegeta turned to face the door, as if he could see straight through it.

So, she was still wary of him. He had been wondering of late what had become of her mind. Why she would trust him, let alone want him alive for any reason. Good, she should be afraid of him. It was the only decent thing she could do to him now. He deserved it. Every foul thought  that’d plagued him that day came rushing back into his head like a bad trip. That little  vial had held a procession of memories that stretched all the way back to that fateful day in the brothel. The day  he’d known  he’d have to have more of her… Tensing muscles heated, his lip curling as he stared blankly at the door. Angry at everything. Angry at himself.

He did the only thing he knew to do: push it down. Will his troublesome thoughts down where they  belonged? However, that  wasn’t as easy as before. They  didn’t want to stay down of late, but that  didn’t mean the stubborn prince  wouldn’t try. Food,  maybe food would help push them down; keep his mind on something more important like survival. But it  wasn’t food he found when he turned to the living area. It was a pile of scrap metal. Well, the control panel of his once grand space  pod , but it was as good as scrap metal now.  Kneeling down (which was much easier now thanks to the work  Bulma had done on his leg), he gave the  contraption his own little inspection. It looked mostly intact, but it was obvious even to his primate brain that there were bits and pieces that were missing, if not burnt out and  rendered completely useless.

* * *

**Her POV**

He  didn’t make a fuss. For the first time in a long time, he gave her privacy when she asked for it. He left willingly and without complaint, and even shut the door behind him. She was suspicious. But at the same time, she was relieved. She let out a little sigh and ensured the door was locked before she started to shed her clothes. Now that she thought about it, though,  he’d been more… How would she even put it? He was giving her more space. It was like how he  didn’t follow her at all when she went out to the  pod . And she knew he  hadn’t followed her, because she saw the look of worry on his eyes as she had complained about the monkeys earlier, even if he was too bu sy pouting to do much else than look a bit worried. 

She entered the shower and got started with cleaning herself, now all but free of bruises and scabs and scratches. She took her sweet time, doing everything to prolong the shower and make herself feel better, from washing her hair twice to making sure she covered every inch of her body in body lotion before ever rinsing off. She had to have been in there for over an hour before she finally got out, finding herself far more relieved after the fact.  She’d calmed down from her terror. While the idea loomed in the back of her mind that he could pounce on her once she walked out, the reality was… Why wouldn’t he have done so by now?  Gn … She could go a little bit longer without being too scared of him, she figured.

She combed out her hair and grabbed a pink robe hanging on the bathroom wall, beside a towel rack. She wrapped it around herself and gave herself a quick facial, covering it with a white cream to exfoliate her skin. Only then did she leave the bathroom, trying not to think too hard about what  Vegeta was doing. Rather than look around for him, she went right to the kitchen area.  She’d seen him in the back of her eye, near the pile of the crap  she’d found, but she  didn’t say a word. She just searched through the cabinets for whatever instant dinner there was, and shoved it straight into the microwave.

But as she waited, she looked over at him.  Hn , what was he up to over there, anyway?  Perhaps her face made her too unattractive to  pursue, if she was lucky. So  maybe it wouldn’t even matter too much anyway if she  was to question him.

“Did you notice anything about the control panel? I  haven’t gotten to really  take a look at it yet. I wanted to eat first, since I haven’t since I first left.” She figured it was worth it enough as a question. Why else would he be standing there? He had to have been looking it over, right? At least, at some point he had to have been. He was far too nosy of a man. She knew that much about him by this point.

* * *

**His POV**

The moment the shower head rang to life on the other side of the bathroom door,  Vegeta’s ears pricked. Since when had the mere act of bathing become so demanding of his defensive nature? Since  she’d tried to kill herself a few times; since  he’d pinned her against the wall of one, too. Both memories roared through his head, leaving him with ample reason to stay alert, even if the alertness was just in the back of his head. Whenever she moved through the water, the click of the tap, or the  patter of wet feet, his subconscious was aware of it. Yet, there was no real reason not to trust her, was there? Of course not,  she’d out survived him so far on this planet, hadn’t she? A little thing like a bath  wasn’t going to stop her now.

As soon as  Vegeta had his fill of staring down the inanimate object that was the infuriating bathroom door, he found himself staring down a new pile of inanimate objects. This time the pile of metal  she’d dragged into the small dwelling. The control panel. His… Control panel. The prince stared at it as one would a back-stabbing ally. It had been so loyal to him over the years. More loyal than his very men, yet it felt like a traitor now too. Teeth grit together so hard it could have ground diamond. He began pacing the tiny living area (a little less hobbled now that his leg was cooperating). Tail twitching, arm crossed, staring a hole through the metal trash, wishing he could punish it.

The sound of the shower tap shutting off cut his anger short.  She’d be showing herself soon. The prince was met with a new dilemma.  Bulma had already proved her worth enough for one day. He  wasn’t about to let her out do him, not now that he had some functioning order. His thoughts took him back to the kitchen. Ripping what remained of the frozen dinners from the freezer, he tossed one into the microwave, angrily of course. He still  couldn’t help but stare down that pile of junk that use to be his ship. Traitor, traitor, everything was a damned piece of shit. He  didn’t even blink when the microwave dinged, ripping the warmed meal out and shoving another inside without so much of a glance.

Before he knew it, his lack of patience had him hovering over the control panel yet again. He  knelt down this time, inspecting it. Had this been what  Nappa had tampered with? Leaning in, he sniffed it. Surely not,  he’d have smelt the numb-skull in his ship had that been the case. Still… He turned the  contraption over, and  that’s when he heard the bathroom door  creak open. Turning around meant  witnessing her with a face full of shit again.  He’d seen her cake herself in cream before, but here, now? On this planet? The  snarl on his face said what he was thinking, ‘was this going to be a regular thing ’. At least she  wasn’t forcing it on him. At least  she’d found the food  he’d left for her. It was hard to tell if the aimless  grumble he gave off was pleased or annoyed.

* * *

**Her POV**

She frowned at him as he lacked a response beyond a stupid  grumble , and then glanced back at the microwave, and only then did she notice there was another box of frozen dinner under the one she had just shoved in there.  She’d blinked and opened the microwave again, pulling out the food. It was already warm;  clearly it’d just gone through. She looked over at  Vegeta again, her brows  furrowed . Hn. She put the extra food back in the freezer and settled on the warm one that  she’d grabbed, a moment later noticing a second one still sitting on the counter. It  wasn’t enough to feed  Vegeta , surely, but it was enough that  he’d try to force her to eat all of that. It must have been for her.

Whatever. One box was enough for her. She walked back to the couch and sat down close to  Vegeta , although far enough for comfort.  He’d clearly tried to reach out to her by doing something like that, but still, she  couldn’t help but still feel nervous. She  opened up the box and grabbed one of the forks that was kept in it, beginning to eat as she glanced him over again. Despite the hour in the shower, clearly the uncomfortable, awkward feeling had not ceased. She tried to focus on eating the food, leaving the question of all the things  she’d found for later. For the time being, she leaned forward and grabbed the remote that sat on the table to turn on the television again, clicking on whatever was the first movie she could. Some cheesy romantic film  she’d seen plenty of times.

“You can eat that other dinner on the counter, by the way. One’s enough for me. I don’t know why you have such a hard time figuring out how much humans eat. It’s one box because that’s what the portioning is for a human.” She let out a little sigh, and her eyes shifted up to the television. Just watch that and eat and calm down, just watch that and eat and calm down… Even if she seemed calm, there was something tearing at her in the back of her mind. Why couldn’t she just feel normal all the time anymore? She’d like to run off, but at the same time, running into the forest somewhere would only make things worse, especially when Vegeta’d inevitably have togo run after her and drag her back. Now wasn’t the time to have another emotional breakdown.   


“Are you planning on sleeping outside again tonight? Or are you going to sleep in here?” Maybe if she just made some small talk,  she’d be fine.

* * *

**His POV**

Awkward.  Why the hell was everything so damn awkward? And only growing more so. It was  grating on  Vegeta worse than nails on a chalkboard. He could feel the  horrid sensation clawing at his skull and raking down his bones. It was setting his teeth on edge. It  wasn’t bad enough that the girl had stumbled in upon him when he was giving his traitorous control panel a death glare, but  she’d brought that horrible aura back with her. The brute  wasn’t one to normally deal with these sorts of social anomalies. Why would he? The most awkward thing  that’d ever happened to him was finding out that whore  he’d passed out on once had  actually been Raditz .

“Who said anything about that being for you?” He was quick to scold her. Eyeing her as he slunk by the sofa, he swiped the tray of food right from under her nose, making way straight for the kitchen where the other meal sat. Vegetawasn’t about to let some off mood over run him. His arrogance and pride were bigger than anything some little earthling could force him to feel. Little by little, he was walling himself off once again. Leaning his spine against the counter’s edge, he dug into the stolen food, quick to gobble it down and going as far as licking his fingers. He was making it clear that the meals weren’t intended for her, but were his all along. Which they both clearly knew was a lie.   


“What does it matter,” he half-assed answered her, not bothering to give her second notice as he reached for the next tray. He may as well sleep outside, it certainly sounded inviting. Hell,  it’d be better than lying inside like some wounded dog. Besides, he wanted to test his leg now, as well as his limits. See how far he could push himself before he needed to rest.  Maybe a little  exertion was exactly what he needed to get himself back in full working order. His brows knit, staring blankly at the refrigerator across from him as he contemplated the options. Hunting was a possibility too. Something he desperately wanted. If only this planet had a creature worth killing,  maybe he’d be able to rid himself of some of this restless energy. Only the night would tell, or so it seemed.

* * *

**Her POV**

Just as quickly as she started eating,  Vegeta swiped her food from her hands and escaped to the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled, and she turned around to look at him as he began to eat.  Gn … She gripped the back of the couch strongly, her fingers turning white.  Maybe normally she’d make some comment about how  it’s all her food because it all belongs to her, but she  couldn’t help but feel that this reminded her of before. Back when she had to wear ripped-up clothing (if any clothing at all) while she watched those pieces of shit eat and refuse to give her any food.  He’d clearly left it out for her, and yet… And then he answered so rudely to her, and began eating the other tray of food, as well. Not that she wanted to go over there and risk getting close to him, anyway. She  didn’t even want to get another tray of food. Her breathing hitched. Why was she breathing so hard? Her body felt both stiff, and like jelly. She could feel her legs and arms shaking. She  didn’t make any kind of  quip back to him. Even if she could  possibly think of one, she had a feeling, with the lump in her throat,  she’d be unable to get it out, anyway.

Perhaps she could calm down by surrounding herself with human, Earthly things, but she  couldn’t run off to the bedroom, or the bathroom.  She’d be too aware of him being there. No. She got up, her shaky legs ensuring her  wobbliness , and went straight to the door. She was barefoot and wearing nothing but a robe and her face mask, though  she’d become so stiff and focused on the pit feeling in her stomach that she forgot  she’d even had it on. She  didn’t care about getting a gun, or worrying about any monkeys. They  hadn’t done anything to her than give her things and prod at her anyway. But there was someone in the Capsule house that  she’d known had abused her and caused her far more pain than anything on this planet had, even the fall  she’d gone through. 

She  didn’t stop out the door, though  she’d nearly tripped on the blanket still laying on the cave ground beside the steps. She just kept walking, her pace fast and unsteady as she made her way straight for the plant life further out that she could only hope would give her more solace.  She’d be away from him.  That’s just what she wanted right now. Get away from him. Get away from him. …Her stomach growled again, and she blinked a few times as she started to feel a burning in the back of her eyes as tears threatened to come free. Damn it! Damn it, why was she like this? Why was he like this! Why couldn’t she feel normal? Why couldn’t she stare him in the eyes and deal with his stupid childish attitude without turning into a pile of  mush , re-imagining the shit  he’d been trying to apologize for? Then again, what  true apology was it, if he seemed to go so out of his way to make her life more difficult?

Her feet were quickly becoming filthy and  pained from the dirty, branch-covered forest floor, but she kept going, passed the large-leafed plants and the slimy, sticky-barked trees, further and further in just to be as far away from that damn monster.

* * *

**His POV**

He  wasn’t going to do  it; he  wasn’t going to give a damn. The stubborn prince  wouldn’t notice her. Not when she looked at him, nor when he heard her breath catching in her throat.  Vegeta refused to care; it was becoming exhausting and tiresome. Despite the extreme tension growing in the room, he refused to acknowledge anything other than his tasteless meal. The growing scent she was giving off was all that he could taste in his mouth. The smell of anxiety and panic.  _ Look to her _ , his inner beast craved, wanting to check on her status. Pacing inside. No, not this time. The prince had no more social endurance to give. He too, was simply searching for some semblance of inner stability.

And then she really did it.  Bulma stood up and headed straight for the door. His eyes shot up, slit and hard-brow. Every alarm in his head was going off, ringing past the angst  he’d been building up. She  wasn’t that stupid, was she? Of course she was, the brash earthling. Fine, let her go, he grimaced to himself.  She’d made it this far today, let her be the one to sleep outside for once. He was always insisting that she was strong, worthy, why not let her prove it. The food squelching between his angry teeth tasted more like sludge than anything. He eyed the door, just waiting for it to reopen and have the fuming earthling reappear with an earful to give him. It never happened.

Just  what the hell had he done wrong, anyhow? The tension was springing up through his back, standing the fur of his tail on end. Why hadn’t she yelled at him, or better yet, taken the food back?  He’d wanted her to challenge him, to balance out this  horrid mess into some normalcy. The useless woman, why was she so difficult?!  She’d left without food, and like  she’d said, she  hadn’t eaten since that morning. The empty tray suddenly felt accusing. He tossed it  haphazardly into the floor. God damn it, if she got herself into trouble out there,  he’d be blamed for that too, wouldn’t he?

He followed her, but not openly. The fresh air was welcome into his lungs the moment he stepped into the tree line, but it was difficult to focus on the release of tension. It never came, something was eating at him. The scene playing out before him felt all too familiar. Stalking the girl into the forest,  prowling on quiet footsteps, watching her from afar. Her bare feet crackled foliage, her scent laced past the trees. How many times had he done this under bad intentions?  He’d have to keep his distance. Replaying history in his head was not something he wanted to experience, either. Even if a part of him naturally fell into the roll, a part of him  that’d gone missing. He opted for staying a short distance away. Hidden in the shadow of leaves.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life at the deserted planet continues. Vegeta's ungrateful attitude grates on Bulma.
> 
>   
>   
> End Notes:
> 
> I'm not sure if it's been more than two weeks or not. A lot has happened for me recently. I moved out of my parents' house finally, after a particularly violent episode my dad had.   
> Next chapter will either be the last chapter that is from the roleplay and not solely my own work, or will be partially written by me. We'll cross that road when we get there. I was kinda on the fence about doing this myself, but one of the things that happened in the long list of things that've gone on in a month, is that the Vegeta in these RPs and I had a bit of a falling out. I kept the door open but it got to a certain point where I don't think I want to anymore. I will be vague but I've been used by a lot fairweather friends in my life, and I don't really want to deal with it with someone else. I don't want to be ghosted for weeks at a time and then told that they need to have the 'energy' to deal with me when it's not fun and games anymore. It's tempting to get some kind of back-pats for talking my heart out on here, but I think that's really all that needs to be said.
> 
> I am also going to start working on a completely original comic unrelated to this, so I'll be doing that alongside this. I have more free time and energy living on my own, so I think I'll be able to handle both. The comic is in the concept stages still, though. I'm the one that came up with the worlds for this roleplay, so I hope you guys would like the idea of the worlds and cultures of my own comic, too. It's about a boy sorcerer, his older brother who is looking for him, and the curse over the world that is sucking all life from the world to a single forest, leaving nothing but desert and infertile plains beyond that oasis. It'll be PG13, in comparison to this, lmao.
> 
> Because I'm on my own now, I'd also appreciate it if any of you would be interested in looking at my art blog, cappucosmic on Tumblr.   
> https://cappucosmic.tumblr.com/post/623485006434729984/commissonsssss-prices-are-negotiable-if-you
> 
>   
>    
> 


	10. An Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta apologizes for his behavior. He and Bulma come a step closer to understanding each other.
> 
>   
> 

**Her POV**

She had a feeling  he’d follow her, but  it’s not like she could really tell. He was always too quiet to be able to sense. She kept going, getting increasingly more frustrated the more she walked. Not just because of the sharp pains of her feet getting scraped  up, but of the growing horror at what this was like. It was like replaying memories of running through some strange forest on an odd planet, trying to get the hell away from  Vegeta and the others, but  ultimately only being found. Every time, getting found. Her hair stood on end thinking about it, and it only got her going deeper into the forest, until she could  swear she heard something rustling around behind her. Usually  Vegeta was quiet, but  maybe he was trying to alert her. Either way, she got faster.

She hurried as fast as she could without breaking into a full run, going down a slight hill in the terrain and finally stopping when she realized just how lost  she’d become that she  couldn’t even tell which way  she’d come from. Yet she could still hear crinkling behind her.  Gn … She looked around desperately, before spotting a large, coconut-like fruit  that’d been lying on the ground beside the tree that was housing plenty more in its branches. She grabbed it and, without thinking, hurled it in the direction of the crinkling as powerfully as she could. She suddenly heard an animal-like yell from the foliage, and she could see an ape escaping the scene.  So, one of those stupid things was following her. She slumped her shoulders and let out a long breath, welcoming the silence that it running off had given her.

It was only a moment longer before she let her butt drop onto the forest floor, wallowing in her pity. She was so sick of feeling like this; always paranoid something would happen to her again. She sniffled and brushed her face, only to be reminded of the face mask. She ripped it off  immediately and tossed it to the ground, her sniffles turning more into wails. Even now, she  couldn’t calm down. She  couldn’t stop imagining  Vegeta finding her and shoving her down and ripping her robe off and doing whatever he wanted with her in revenge for her acting up like that and trying to run away.  He’d done it before, hadn’t he? She supposed in some way she was lucky that  Nappa wasn’t here, but…

Nn …  Nappa . She buried her face in to her knees as she thought about all the cruel  shit he’d done to her. It was soon that  she’d get to kill him, wouldn’t it be? She could dig his other eye out, as she promised him before. She could stomp his skull into concrete, cut his genitals off, take revenge for what  he’d done. But what then? Even if  Vegeta also wanted to kill  Raditz , she was still stuck then, with at least one of her kidnappers. One of her rapists. She wiped her eyes on the soft fabric of the robe, hearing her stomach rumble yet again. Her legs ached from going as far out as she did. She was so stupid. So, so stupid. For a million reasons.

* * *

**His POV**

Even with the state of him, it  wasn’t difficult to  keep tabs on the woman with how she was traipsing so noisily over the forest floor. Barefoot. That little fact was  grating on  Vegeta’s nerves. The stupid woman had been so  riled up  she’d left without her  _ precious _ shoes. The faint smell of scathed heels scented the leaf litter. Was there any wonder was to why  he’d gone so  ridged again. However,  there’d be no scolding the woman for her brash behavior this time. The prince  didn’t want to be noticed,  didn’t want to be seen. He too was drowning in his own levels of sulking and brooding.  That’s why he was keeping such a fair distance, distance enough for an intruder to lurk between them.

Vegeta caught sight of the unwanted  ape-man before  Bulma ever realized she was being followed. He could feel the rage  prickle his spine and raise the hair from the nape of his neck. Never had he looked so ferocious, so on guard. With shoulders hunched and chest puffed, he must have appeared as an angry gorilla himself. However, before a confrontation could ever be had, an object went whizzing by both of their heads. The trespasser fled into the  thicket , leaving  Vegeta to  revel in this new realization. The woman had felt the threat and taken care of it. Yet again proving herself. Without him.

A cool, distant rock was a good place to perch if any. The  glowering prince was left to reflect as he watched her. The  horrid hum of her sobbing keeping his mind from ever finding any real peace. Memories rattled through his head. It would be so easy to put himself back into that place, to let time bleed together. Being near her like this, in this setting, felt like taboo, but there was absolutely no way  he’d leave her on her own. The forest was alive, couldn’t she feel it, smell it? Of course not, her inadequate earthling senses were dull and useless. However, there was not a chance in hell  he’d reveal himself, either.  Vegeta wanted as little to do with her as she wanted to do with him. There was an  irksome static between them. Something impenetrable and heavy. He hunkered down, planking his arm across his knees. He was only here to  observe .

And  observe he did. The brute’s head lifted as soon as movement began rustling the bushes just before  Bulma . It was gentle, reckless movement, but none the less the Saiyan was ready to leap. That is, until nothing more than a minuscule ape tumbled out into the open. It was no bigger than a cub. He sank back down; watchful. It  didn’t seem to mind  Bulma at all at first. Twisting and turning in place, swinging its arms as it made itself dizzy. Then it stepped over the discarded, wet face mask.  Ew , what was that! Picking it up, the tiny thing tried eating it at first, but after finding it not very tasty it put it over its face instead.  Maybe it’d been watching  Bulma , too. The mask quickly became boring though, and something fluffy and near was much more interesting. The  hem of  Bulma’s robe. Reaching out, it tugged it, then pulled back! A little closer and another tug, until it was full on ruffling the pink strange fur. It  hadn’t realized how close  it’d grown.

* * *

**Her POV**

She felt like she was crying for forever, ignoring everything else in the world, when a little ape-person rolled out from the foliage. He looked like a baby gorilla, but like the others, seemed more human than a gorilla did. More human of eyes, and faces without fur, and with the rest of the fur much lighter than on a gorilla or a chimp. But still, with a tail. She sniffled as she watched the baby, not daring to mess with it. But  he’d rolled over her mask and began to play with it, putting it on his face. She watched him quietly, rubbing her eyes and trying to stop crying so pathetically.  It’s not as if she could really… Change anything, she supposed. She was so stupid for crying.

When it was finished with her eye mask, it moved on to messing with her robe. She watched him tug on the belt of her robe, and she  attempted to fix it as he stumbled back in confusion. But it  didn’t take long for him to come back. In only a minute, he was all but rolling around in the extra fabric of her robe, snuggling up to the fur and not paying attention to her at all. She tugged at the robe just enough to ensure it stayed in place, and she watched him for a moment longer before pushing him enough to make him roll off her robe.  In reality, she was  just curious what  he’d do. She  didn’t mean any harm from it, but she was curious about it all.

Of course, though, it occurred to her that there may be more problems. She looked around, wondering to herself if there may be any more ape people around. She  didn’t have a gun on her at this moment. She recalled having all those ape men on her at once… Her stomach flopped and she turned her head away from the baby ape, her hand coming up to her mouth. Who knew how this would go if something like that happened with no  gun? And wearing only a robe. She hated herself that she was almost thinking to herself that she wished  Vegeta was around for her own safety. That… That asshole. Here she was, hoping he was around. She relied on him for safety. She hated that fact.

“H… Hey, little thing,” she called to the baby again, turning her head in its direction and trying to make herself a little smaller to try and get it to trust her. “Where are your parents?”  Feh ,  it’s not like  it’d understand her. The others seemed to. But still, she tried. “Where’s the others? More apes? More of you? Are there any more?” She tried to make hand-gestures to try and get the thing to understand what she was saying; she’d point to the baby and make her arms gesture to being bigger, hoping it’d get the point in her wild gestures that she was simply asking if there were any more of his people anywhere around.

* * *

**His POV**

It was  rather harmless , really. There was no threat to fend off, so the Saiyan watching  Bulma didn’t bother to budge, no matter what ruckus the  pint-sized bite of a cub was making. However, as it rolled around and explored the  hem of the robe, it  wasn’t just  Bulma that the baby ape was distracting. Little by little,  Vegeta too was cooling  down, more or less .  Bulma’s sobs became less prevalent and the prince  was allowed to focus. What a pathetic little creature, wandering out into the open by itself like that. As stupid as the girl he was surveying. Did she even know he was here yet? Doubtful, but  probably for the best. They both  probably felt the explosive situation that was doomed to happen if they  encountered one another again any time soon. Space was needed.

However, the little ape that was bothering  Bulma didn’t seem to care to cater to their needs. As soon as  Bulma began gesturing towards it, the tiny thing crept closer rather than moving away. It tried to mimic her, raising its hairy arms in the air, chirping a bit. Then, as soon as it waddled a little too close, close enough to reach out to  Bulma’s arm, an explosion came from the direction the cub had wandered from. A yell, that of an angry wild-man, ripped from the trees. The  ape-man from before, the pack leader  Bulma had  encountered back at the  pod , came barreling at them. It must have thought  she’d gotten too close to its offspring, because it looked like he was about to rip her head off or pin her down,  possibly both …

A terrifying roar lifted through the trees, answering the ape-man’s attack before he could take another step, skidding him to halt to see his challenger. It had been  Vegeta , whom was now standing between the incoming  ape-man and the girl on the forest floor. His shoulders were rounded, stance wide, nostrils flared, and canines bared.  Both of the male’s tails swatted angrily, staring one another down. In that moment, it was difficult to tell the two men apart. For  Vegeta , it had all been an act of instinct, or at least  that’s what  he’d chalk it up to.  He’d always known the male-ape was hiding in the brush, not a worthy threat, but as soon as  Bulma had been jeopardized, all bets were off.

Instinct reflected into instinct. Had the prince’s arm not been broken, he  probably would have pounded on his chest during his display. He felt as if he were staring down that part of him  that’d gone missing. However, he could hear it loud and clear now, and in a  brand-new sense  he’d never experienced before. The wild animal  he’d been suppressing had spoken up. He  hadn’t thrown a kai blast.  He’d just. Moved. It was obvious whom the winning male was, too. In only a matter of seconds the  ape-man lowered his gaze; hunkering down submissively and hooting gently towards its offspring. Probably hoping to leave with both of their lives before they upset the big male more.

* * *

**Her POV**

The little guy was cute, but he seemed completely clueless as to what she was trying to ask of him. She rubbed her head as she tried to figure out a way to explain further, but just as she did, she was stunned at the terrifying loud noise of a massive ape coming at them. It was the same one that  she’d seen earlier. She stared at it with big eyes, but just as quickly as it had come to face her,  Vegeta had  seemingly come out of nowhere and began to threaten it. She sat in  silence, her breathing hitched as she watched it all happen. Roaring and  puffing up to look bigger than the other…

She sat and curled in on herself again, unsure of what to even do. Again, she needed  Vegeta’s help. She  couldn’t do anything without him, could she? Not without at the very least getting pretty  badly injured . She hid her face as she listened to them, until the noises lowered and the little monkey boy left with his dad back into the bushes, leaving her alone yet again with  Vegeta . Just as so many times before,  he’d followed her into the woods to either harass her or make sure of her safety.

She  didn’t say anything to him. She  didn’t get up. She  didn’t want to even look at him. It was stupid to wander off this far, she knew it. She had nothing on her to protect herself. But…  She’d just been so overwhelmed, for some stupid reason. And so here she was, sitting on the dirty jungle floor, her feet hurting, her stomach growling, and feeling drained from crying to the point of dehydration. Her eyes must have been puffy. Right after having that facial, too… She felt so pathetic. And what was she even supposed to say? What could she do to  even…?

“ Vegeta …” She mumbled it quietly, more of a whisper than anything else. She  wasn’t even sure where she was going with that, saying his name at all. What did she even want to say to him?  Perhaps it was more that she was simply acknowledging his presence. Acknowledging he was here, that  he’d come to follow her yet again.  Maybe she’d think to tell him that she was hungry or something, but… Why? He clearly  wasn’t very interested in getting her food, and why would she ask something like that of him, anyway? Couldn’t she make her own food? But there was just something about having her food ripped away from her and told that it was for him that hit her so hard.

She still refused to look at him. She just sat in silence, her cheeks flushed and her nose red and her eyes swollen. She looked completely pathetic, and she knew it. It made it all the worse to know that. That he could  probably look upon her with pity. What was he going to do, pick her up and bring her back? She  didn’t want to get up by herself, certainly. She bristled at the idea of him touching her, though  honestly, she had no energy to fight it if it were to happen. She was all too prepared to deal with that. Deal with him calling her an idiot and dragging her back home...

* * *

**His POV**

It was over as quickly as it started. As soon as the  ape-man and his offspring  retreated back into the woodlands,  Vegeta found himself coming back to reality. His shoulders were moving - heavy breathing; blood was rushing through his ears - heart pounding. An adrenaline spike caused by that female. A raging animal  that’d come to protect her, rather than to harm her. His tail twitching behind him, he found himself having to manually un-clench his tight fist. Gaze drifting across the tree line,  perhaps searching for another threat, he was coming down. The tension slowly drained from his features, his body relaxing, but not fully. There was still a tension in the air. A tension that kept him at bay.

The prince’s body felt to run from hot to cold the moment his eyes drifted over her. She was a messy lump of pink and blue. The scent of sorrow and  woe ripe on her, despite the dreaded smells of soaps. It  wasn’t pity he felt for her, but  perhaps hatred for himself in that moment, knowing  he’d put her in this position in the first place. The  twinge of her stomach caused the meal  he’d stolen from her, her meal, to make a fuss in his own titanium trap. Scolding him from the inside. What was he to say, to do? Nothing, as far as he was concerned. Oh, how he longed to  sulk and back  pedal into his nice, dark, prickly shell that no one could pry into. But he  couldn’t for some reason, and it made standing there in the middle of nowhere all the worse.

And then she  muttered his name, and any notion to desert her fled without him. The center of his attention now, a lonely blue gem that he knew better than to touch. As if he would touch her of his own free will. He may have picked her up before without her consent, but  there’d be no carrying her this time. Not with the way he was feeling.  So, the  vile prince did the only thing he saw fit to do. He crouched down a few feet from her, staring into the darkness of trees that lined before them. Sitting beside her in the awkward silence.

A croaking little creature flipped out of the  underbrush , breaking the silence and instead began singing its  throaty chant. His brow may have twitched but he  didn’t glance,  didn’t move despite his unease.  Surely she’d be the first one to make a move. To demand she return her to the dwelling. Surprisingly, he was looking forward to her demanding orders. A chance to move, to return things to their normal settings. She  hadn’t ordered him around in the kitchen and it was bothering him. Could things return to what they were? What were they, anyhow? Things were changing so fast; it was difficult for the Saiyan to keep up.

* * *

**Her POV**

Silence filled the area as the monkey man left with his son. She sat there as  Vegeta stood before her, and after she mumbled his name, he… Sat beside her. He  didn’t scold her or anything. He  didn’t run. No, he just sat beside her and kept her company. She glanced over at him, her lips pressing together. She wanted to cry again, honestly, but she was too tired to do so.  So, she just sat quietly, until a frog came passing by, croaking in front of them. She let out a sigh. What a stupid example of just how awkward the space was. 

“…I hate that I have to rely on you for stuff like this,” she mumbled, as if it was really his fault. “I wish I stayed on Earth, but I just felt so wrong there.” Why was she blabbering like he even cared? She knew he  didn’t give a shit. She knew. And yet, she was still mumbling her feelings to him. “I had no reason to cry and run off, but you just took my food, and I all the sudden got reminded of all the times you used to, and… I just  couldn’t stop myself from running away.  It’s pretty stupid , right? But I  couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help…” She rubbed her eyes and curled her legs to her chest. She hated herself. What  she’d become.

“…I’m hungry. And thirsty, probably because  I’ve been crying so stupidly much. I  don’t even know how far I ran off. My feet hurt. And  I’m tired…. I’ve been walking like all day.” She curled tighter into a  ball; her face covered by her legs. “ Gn …  Maybe I’ll feel better if I just get some food in me. …But  you’re probably sick of having to take care of me.  Maybe you should just leave me here.  So I can die or get kidnapped by ape men or something. I  don’t want to deal with anything else, anyway. Just let me die, and maybe if  I’m lucky, I  won’t go to Otherworld, and  I’ll just get to stop existing.  That’s all I really want, anyway.”

The frog was still croaking in front of them. She pulled her head up just to stare at the stupid animal, her brows  somewhat  furrowed . At least that animal seemed content with what it was.  It’d be nice to be that clueless, with no interests beyond just hopping around and making annoying noises. No worries about traumas, violence… Just go on living as nature intended.  That’d be great.

* * *

**His POV**

“ _ I’m not _ -” his lowly voice interjected quickly. Her words had stung, all of them. From realizing she still hated his aid, to knowing why she  couldn’t return to Earth.  He’d been slightly offended by the notion that he  didn’t give a damn, let alone that  he’d allow anything to happen to her. But after what  he’d done, he  couldn’t blame her or her dire desires. But he wasn’t, what? The unfinished sentence hung silently between them. The horrible prince was finding that he  hadn’t tired of caring for her, watching over her, or even bringing her back from stunts like this (that she seemed to  so easily get herself into). Did she realize? A curious glance turned her way, finally looking at her since what felt like forever.

“I’m not sick of it.” The phrase was just as surprising to him. He went back to staring at the awkward frog in front of them. It was silly, really, how drastically the tables had turned. For every chance  Bulma claimed that she had no reason to act out as she did,  Vegeta was finding reason to it. But  why the hell did he care? It seemed neither of them could believe he did if they wanted to.  Vegeta especially was having  a hard time wrestling the monster that wanted to flee the scene. He should pick her up, take her back, and be done with it. Why were her worries like chains, holding him down to the ground? Why was her voice demanding he open his own mouth? As if that would cure anything.

“And I shouldn’t have taken your food,” he continued.  _ Her _ food. It was as much of an apology as she was going to get. But it was his apology. He was still cringing at the fact  he’d lead to this. “I want to be  off of this rock. I want to be able to fight again, I want you there when I kill the others! I want-!” His voice grew more aggressive until it stewed into angry silence. What did the irate ape want? What was it that was  grating on  Vegeta’s mind the most? His steam simmered, but he  wasn’t able to complete his sentence this time around.  Perhaps the prince  didn’t even know what it was that he  truly wanted . Not  anymore . It seemed neither of them knew exactly where they stood anymore.

* * *

**Her POV**

She looked back over at him when he said what he did. ‘I’m not sick of it.’ A brow raised as he mumbled it. And they both raised even further when he continued, saying that he  shouldn’t have taken her food. He was apologizing to her about what  he’d done. Had… Had he ever even really done anything like that before? She  couldn’t recall any time.  Maybe she’d get a short mumble or some look of disgrace…  Maybe he’d apologized to her before over something much more massive…. But to apologize for something trivial, and to show  real sympathy for her feelings? It caught her by complete surprise, and she  wasn’t sure what to do with the information. Her head turned straight forward as she processed it, barely listening to the rest of his speech– But still listening.

It did put a sour taste in her mouth to hear him still wishing to kill people, but she supposed no matter what,  he’d still be a Saiyan. But…  It’s not as if their goals were that far from being aligned. She did want to see  Nappa burn. Her body loosened subconsciously as she accepted his apology, and the thoughts  she’d been having faded,  at least somewhat . …She was still starving, however. But they could fix that upon getting back to the house. It  wouldn’t be a problem. …Though she had to wonder just how far they were from the house by now. She glanced over at  Vegeta again, not  truly wanting him to carry her around, but at the same time…

“I’m tired, so when we get back, I think I just want to eat and then go to sleep. I’ll work on those parts tomorrow. Or… I mean, whenever I wake up, I guess.” It was hard to tell the actual time on this planet, with the multiple suns. Even beyond that, it’s not like every planet had the same day length. All she knew was that she was exhausted from pushing herself too far than she should have, because her body had reacted negatively to something stupid– Again. She had to wonder how often this would happen in the future. It really was her fault for being such an idiot to think a couple weeks of therapy would be enough (Though she didn’ttruly think that, did she? She just wanted to get out.). Maybe if she stayed on Earth longer, she’d be better. Maybe with time, this would fade. Or maybe it’d get worse. …Who knew.   


“How hard would it be for you to fly us back?”

* * *

**His POV**

By the time  Bulma looked his way,  Vegeta had his hand running through his jet-black hair, clasped over his thumping head. He had tuned her out the same as  she’d tuned out his rambling. Overwhelmed with strife and doubt, he was finding it difficult to make heads or tails of his situation. And then her sweet voice broke the bitter silence  that’d yet again renounced itself between them. He looked up, finding her watching him expectantly. How hard would it be-? Ah, flying. His brow flat-lined at the idea  it’d anything less than a breeze for him. As if  she’d even need to ask (though she had reason to).  Of course, he could fly them back, or at least  that’s what he wanted her to believe. The truth was  Vegeta himself was wondering just how far he could go now that he had some life in him.

“ Of course I can. I followed you here, didn’t I?” Always one to prove himself,  Vegeta stood straight and tall, though he was still a little more  heedful than usual. He  didn’t want to spook her, and went as far as giving her a quiet moment to find herself before offering his hand and pulling her up into his good arm, allowing her to rest against his warm chest. Then, the  moment of truth . His bare feet began to lift from the dirt, raising them both high above the shrub and tree top. The sight was immaculate. A sleepy sun was fading out over one horizon, casting hues of deep blue and violet, while another star was rising in the opposite direction. Bright, fiery, and casting orange and red, it seemed to be chasing the other star across the sky, or pulled along, one.

They arrived back at the capsule house in no time. Quite pleased with himself  that’d he’d made the trip with energy to spare,  Vegeta didn’t drop her at the door step, but rather planted her on the sofa instead. The prince’s eyes flicked to the girl then away again in thought. Things  didn’t feel finished. Something was still tugging at his insides, and  Vegeta soon realized what it was.  He’d taken her food - she  hadn’t eaten. She was clearly tired, too. Without another word, the stern man turned back towards the tiny kitchen. While he  wasn’t normally a man  that’d make up for his wrong doings, he often found himself doing outrageous acts in the girl’s presence. If preparing her food would make him feel better, then so be it. The smell of something tasty soon filled the home, and then the tray was handed to  Bulma by  Vegeta himself.

* * *

**Her POV**

He  didn’t come and grab her all at once. No, he took his time approaching her, like you would to a stray cat. Once he did approach her, he even hesitated. Gave her more time to relax. And then, finally, he reached out and helped her up to her feet, and up against his chest. She  didn’t look at him, but she did feel comfort in his arms.  Hn … Why did she have to have another episode? She felt exhausted now. Exhausted and stupid. But he  didn’t call her weak or pathetic this time. He just assured her that he could get her home, and he did. He flew them back to the cave, and walked her passed the messy entrance to the door, and all the way to the capsule house’s couch. Where the movie was still playing. …Her face felt dirty, and full of snot. Her feet ached and she could feel a fresh coat of dirt under them. She  didn’t feel as clean as she was before. She hated herself for ruining that for herself. But at the same time… She felt some relaxation. It had been nice, feeling pressed up against his chest. They did cuddle on occasion, but it…  Mainly reminded her of before she felt so disgusting all the time. When  she’d just sit and cuddle with  Yamcha .

Yamcha was long gone now, but she  didn’t care about that. It was the feeling. The feeling of being protected. She loathed that  he’d moved away, though she  hadn’t noticed what for. Why did it have to go back and forth like that? She  couldn’t just either be happy to have him around or happy to have him gone. It was always a never-ending wheel of being upset at his absence and detachment or his attachment and his closeness. She felt crazy, going back and forth like that, and yet… Here she was. Moments after her freak out, wishing  he’d come and hold her some more. Make her feel warm. She was just wearing that  robe, after all . Yes,  perhaps she could just  go and get dressed, but… At this point, she  didn’t even want to get up.

She leaned back and stared at the television as her stomach rumbled. She made a face, before realizing it was rumbling because she smelled food. …Was he making more food for himself? Her brows  furrowed in resentment at the idea, though she still looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen– Only to have a trash pushed up to her face, handed to her by  Vegeta . She stared for a moment, surprised. But…  Of course she took it! She spent no time at all scarfing it down, her stomach plenty pleased at her finally  appeasing its hunger. Sure, it was only freezer food, but  she’d be damned if that  wasn’t the most delicious thing  she’d ever eaten in the right context. And  now, when she  hadn’t eaten in who knew how long? Damn right, it was the best thing  she’d eaten in her entire life.  That’s what it felt like, anyway.

* * *

**His POV**

There were a thousand scents in that tiny capsule house. Aromas of bath  suds microwaved meals mixed unpleasantly with the grit of sweat and jungle earth.  Vegeta held fast to his decision to fix the mess  he’d made between them. The dreadful ticking of the cooking food was picking away at his nerves, but leaving him with enough time to wonder if he could take back the act and save his pride for another day. One glance over towards the sofa, at the back of her blue head staring mindlessly at the television, and he knew he his stubborn soul would never allow her to go hungry. So, as his primal brain had dictated,  he’d handed over the peace offering - the tray of underwhelmingly nutritious food, and awaited her reaction with  a frump on his grumpy face, of course.

She accepted. No,  Bulma didn’t just accept, she scarfed the whole scene down like a Saiyan herself!  Vegeta’s brows unintentionally rose higher upon his thick forehead before quickly snapping back to attention and scrunching up his nose. He  couldn’t have her catching him looking so hopelessly pleased to see his apology no go by the way side. Oh, kami sake,  that’d be more than the prince could bare for one day. A sudden sting in his arm was a welcome distraction. Ah, physical pain, it was a comfort to his  warped mind these days. Something he could rely on and understand. His good hand brushed past the bandages. His body would heal within a day or so, or at  least he liked to think.

He  didn’t bother to sit beside her but  rather took a turn around the control panel  that’d been left on the living-room floor. How  she’d managed to bring it back  he’d never understand, yet he  couldn’t imagine anything less of her either. A quick flick of his gaze towards her revealed his thoughts about her but despite noticing the empty spot beside her, it just  didn’t feel right to  intrude . The control panel it was, then. He  knelt down , doing his  damnest to not place any weight on his bad let without it being too obvious he was paying any attention to the pain at all. The back and forth drama of internal suffering caused a visible  wobble on his way down. The wiring was still in  place, more or less . A little burnt from impact and a little  scruffy , but the damn ship had always been one for crash landings. If they could get this running, if they could piece enough together to call it a  ship, they may  actually catch up to  Nappa and rip the traitor’s head from his body sooner than they both may think.

“The crash  site ,” the one  she’d ventured out to without his useless self to. “If I bring back enough of this shit to piece back together a hull, do you think you can get us off of this damned rock?” It was the first time those deep-set eyes of his dared to  make contact with her, looking up at her as she sat above him.

* * *

**Her POV**

Of course  he’d be too stubborn to  actually sit beside her. The same way as  she’d done a million times in the past. So many times of being forced into that spaceship and insisting on sitting at his feet rather than at his lap. It kept the crude memories fresh in her mind, but at the same time, made her confront a strange reality; that they were similar in some ways. Both as stubborn, prideful. Had that thought ever really occurred to her before? She  couldn’t recall. She ate her food quietly all the same, her eyes flicking up to the television. The last short moments it took for her to finish her food were pleasant in his quiet they were, a sort of solitude  after all of the things  they’d just gone through. The warmth of his chest still felt like it lingered on her skin. 

She set the tray down on the table and laid across the couch, her head landing on the cushion where she could see just over Vegeta’s shoulder as he hunched over the control panel. Thinking again about Nappa, no doubt. Did the Saiyan know what was coming to him  in the near future ? Where was he now? Sleeping, blissfully unaware, or anxious and restless, worried about just how long it would take for Vegeta to find him and end his life? He seemed so  cocky , he  probably thought he could win a fight against Vegeta now. Not that she had much interest in trying to figure out the inner workings of a monster like that. It was best Vegeta kill him.  He’d be saving lives, preventing future victims from  coming into contact with the man. 

“Oh, that would be perfect. It was hard to find things, hard to be able to  lug things back… But if you bring everything to me, I could make a working ship easily enough,” she spoke up at  Vegeta’s question, internally beginning to debate whether she wanted to get up and attempt to bathe again, or just fall asleep right there on the couch before her eyes met with  Vegeta’s . Dark and full of thought. Her own thoughts quieted, as if bowing to his own.  Nappa wouldn’t be living for much longer, with the stewing anger the Saiyan had. Her blue eyes broke contact with his to glance at the television, and then close altogether. Her body shifted  in an attempt to get comfortable. To rid herself of the problems of the day.

“…Are you going to leave right away?” She murmured to him, her eyes still resting. The lingering feeling of the warmth of his chest flashed in her mind again. “You don’t want to rest for a while? You  shouldn’t exert yourself. Your leg…”

* * *

**His POV**

Why was she looking at him like that? The subtle  gleam of her bright blue eyes was making the Saiyan uncomfortable. Vegeta’s shoulders shifted and his tail twitched and  coiled around his calf for good measure. It  shouldn’t be making him this uncomfortable, it  wasn’t as if he  hadn’t watched into those blue eyes a thousand times before. Flashes of times before, of moments caught in her gaze, rambled through his head like a thousand thoughts, but he refused to break away. He  wouldn’t be giving in so soon. ‘She shouldn’t be looking at him so needy’ wrestled with the idea that it  shouldn’t matter at all. Stubborn, he grimaced back. As soon as Bulma’s gaze relinquished the Saiyan was all too happy. It  shouldn’t have left him feeling so hollow yet here he stood, and on only one good leg to stand on no less. Something dark inside started jabbing at him…

“Exert myself?” His gravelly voice bit, “I’d hardly call that exerting shit.” An eye roll followed.  Alright , in truth,  perhaps the monkey  didn’t want to linger out all hours of the night collecting scraps of junk that use to be HIS SHIP instead of finding somewhere to call it a night, but when was  Vegeta ever a reasonable man. “Rest is the last thing I need,” lies. “You’re the one that should rest if you’re going to be putting it back together correctly. Be ready in the morning.” And that was that. After stiffening his shoulders to their maximum potential,  Vegeta strutted out of the door. However, with the door to the capsule house closed behind him he gave way to a little look back. She better  survive just one night without him. He could say she was  reasonably safe while tucked away in her capsule house, but when had  Bulma ever been a reasonable woman.

The night air  provided some relief from the stress that was winding round and round inside the Saiyan’s head. The heavy tension  he’d been carrying in his shoulders relaxed as distance grew between him and their little hide out. At least he could fly, at least the breeze against his face was there, reminding him of who he truly was. Who he truly was? It was hard to make heads or tails of that now, even unto himself. Vegeta refused to dwell on it too long and with a huff from his nose,  snarled and scrunched, he landed at the scattered crash sight.

It  didn’t take much energy to gather the pieces that glimmered under the light of the planet’s second dimming sun. It was difficult to know how long he’d been away thanks to the strange sunrises and sunsets of this damned planet, but it couldn’t have taken the man more than a night’s worth of time to carry the heavy load of remains back to the cave they’d been calling their camp site. All that really remained to be collected were the bits and pieces that showed themselves against the barren land like flickers of light. Metal  craftsmanship against nature and earth. It stuck out like a sore thumb. He only hoped  he’d gathered enough of the essential parts, the tiny particles that could be a make or break when it came to flying a space craft, before Bulma revealed herself again. Vegeta  hadn’t re-entered the house throughout their time apart. Something was pulling at him to stay away. Besides, the mundane chore of collecting what was his in hopes of killing a traitor gave the twisted man some sort of peace of mind.

* * *

**Her POV**

She really had no reason to be surprised at the way this went. Wasn’t it always the same? The moment she thought  she’d made any sort of headway with  Vegeta , he stiffened up and escaped the situation. She opened her eyes to watched blankly as he demanded she rest and  proceeded to leave the house. She breathed out and focused her eyes again on the television. The stupid rom-com that was still playing. She still felt sweaty and stiff all over from her wandering. Exhaustion was tempting, but… She really supposed she should get to her feet. Feet that throbbed under her weight, though nowhere near as badly as they had a million times in the past, thanks to him. Why would she expect anything else? He  wasn’t Yamcha . And she decided she  couldn’t stand being around  Yamcha anymore, anyway.  So what was it she was after? Something that  didn’t exist, clearly. 

She dwelled on it in the shower, soaking away the dirt  she’d built up. By the time it was finished, and she was  well aware of the lack of noise outside the bathroom–meaning  Vegeta probably would be gone all night–,  she’d let the issue drift from her mind entirely. It was a stupid thing, thinking about how she wanted to be cuddled. It was better that he  learn to keep his distance from her. She needed to stop the mind-games of expecting  some kind of relationship from a person like that. She was only here because she felt she  couldn’t find safety and mental peace anywhere else. That was the end of it. 

She found her way into the bedroom and slunk into the sheets, and thanks to her full stomach and her exhaustion, sleep came naturally.

As did waking. It was always impossible to tell just how long  she’d slept in worlds like these, but she knew she felt more than a little rested with the way her muscles gently ached from underuse. She dragged herself out of bed and rubbed her face, stopping just a moment afterward to listen. Just the gentle noise of metal being set down outside. Had the man not even slept, or had she truly slept so long that  he’d had time to start dropping everything outside her door? She clasped the bridge of her nose between two fingers before she began to get herself ready for the day. A change of clothes, a trip to the bathroom to brush her teeth and the like, and in a moment–

She opened the door, and was welcomed with all sorts of broken  odds and ends that  Vegeta had found. …Time to get back to work, she supposed. It looked as though she might have just missed  Vegeta leaving for another round, but she gathered the parts she’d been working on in the living room all the same, sat down on the step in front of the house, and began to get back to exactly what she’d been doing. With any luck, they could be back by tomorrow. Though it  wasn’t much luck if  Vegeta didn’t take his leg seriously enough to let it heal for longer; she could already  pick the moron being beaten by  Nappa for being too injured to fight properly. And who knew what would happen to her then.

Well, she could always give him a chewing-out when he returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Two weeks goes by fast. I'm doing very well in my new apartment!  
> Shortly after I posted the last chapter, I got messaged by the writer of the Vegeta. They prefaced their message with saying they'll 'look into what [they] had done too, because [they] were sure there were things' and then sent me a two-page letter all about how hurt they are by my actions, because I had asked them to apologize for lying to me about moving out and then proceeding to ghost me for weeks on end. All this drama just stemmed from them lying to me that they'd move in with me immediately to help me escape an abusive domestic situation, and then making it about themselves when I got rightfully upset about it. I was angry at reading the letter and told them never to contact me again unless they planned on actually at least acknowledging they did wrong and apologizing in any capacity. I have not heard from them since. So. This fanfic will continue on just by myself for certain, then.
> 
> I also realized I had a bit more content than I needed for one chapter, too. So NEXT chapter will be the last of the roleplay. It's just a little bit of scene-setting, and then I'll be writing from then on. I did some concept art and plan on doing some more to get you a good idea of what's been planned for the future without spoiling all too much. It is going to be less graphic than the previous 'book,' though. Sort of like it has been. And I'll have the added benefit of being able to flesh out characters more. I had a lot I had planned for when she was on Earth, for instance, but a lot of it didn't work out because the ex-Vegeta got bored. For instance, I had planned more stuff with Yamcha, because I imagined Bulma would have more of a struggle with being around her ex-lover again. I also planned on having her in therapy longer, but the ex-Vegeta didn't think Vegeta would bother staying around more than a week. I'm thinking of ways of introducing these concepts again.  
> I hope you guys like the story moving forward. Look forward to the concept art I'll be posting either next week or the week after. I have those little concept pieces but I want to do at least one digital piece. But that takes much longer to do.
> 
> Someone else also said I should post the comic I'm working on (not DBZ related; completely original) once I begin it. That sounds good. I'll link it once I actually start with the actual comic pages. It's still in the worldbuilding phase. :)
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> EDIT: Finally caught up! I did hear back from the ex-co creator. :v) As you might guess. They sent me some calls and left a voicemail that they 'want to talk to me about something serious.' I didn't bother calling back because it didn't sound like they planned on apologizing. And then just around the end of my work day today I check my email and see they deleted all our mutual things on here. And that's fine! I've already had some hits and comments already so it seems like it was popular enough people searched for it and found it again. So I think we're safe. I contacted AO3's support to see if we can get the original ones back up again, especially Evolve since I was the one to initially post it, but we'll see. Otherwise, it's all here. I'm not done with all my concept art, but as a treat for you all, I'll post it in the following chapter!


	11. Bonus Chapter: Concept Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some concept art as a congratulations to everyone who found me again after my co-creator deleted our works.  
> WARNING: SPOILERS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Took an hour and forty minutes to get all this. 
> 
> So. Here we have some concept art. I still want to do some digital pieces, but we'll see if I'm lazy or not. I also have a few more ideas i could do sketches of.  
> I'm not going to go into depth about the meaning of these pieces and what I'm actually planning; that's too spoilery. Instead, I find it fun if you guys can look it over and imagine for yourselves, as a sort of sneak-preview. Picture it as a trailer, if you will. None of these pictures are in any particular order.
> 
> I also have an idea now for a Book 3 down the line.


	12. Birth of a Saiyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta completely make up.

**His POV**

He knew it was bound to happen at some point. Vegeta caught whiff of her scent before he ever had the mouth of the cave in view. She was awake and probably waiting for him. Some part of him accelerated at the idea of her arrival but another part of him slunk under the heavy darkness that always followed him at the mere thought. His brow darkened as well, just as he made footfall at the mouth of the cave. In both of his arms, not metal but flesh was heaped against his chest. Bloody, fresh and covered in fur, his last scavenger hunt out had been for something to sink his teeth into rather than parts. The neck of the creature hung limp over one side, trickling blood from its mouth, making it impossible to tell if the droplets of red were coming from Vegeta’s latest kill or his aggravated leg. He hid favoring it, however, as he walked past to drop the beast next to the pile of parts. Already, he began stripping a leg from the beast.

“That should be everything,” his eyes finally flicked up from his work to find her. “If there’s anything missing …it most likely burned. Nothing but useless ash by now.” A loud rip came from the hide of the animal. Vegeta sat upon one of the many rocks in the cave, finally giving Bulma his full attention now that he had a mouth full of meat. She looked like her tongue had some lashing to do, and the man curiously waited for the bite of her words. Maybe he was looking forward to that. If they were going to interact at least it could be something he was comfortable with. There was little the blue-eyed wonder could do to harm his pride at the moment. He was fairly satisfied with his work over the night. The land had been more than combed over thoroughly. If there was any part over looked, well they’d come to that bridge when they built it.

“You-” his chewing ceased just long enough to swallow his pride. “You should probably eat before you get to work,” his gravelly voice grunted and his head titled in gesture to the fresh meat. Vegeta was hungry, starving, more so than a Saiyan man should be. The raw flesh in his maw was salvation, he couldn’t get enough of it. The liquid of it was turning his chin a dark red. Yet, he still left enough aside for Bulma and her regular measly portion. Perhaps his hunger was due to his exhaustion. His body sunk and ached against the rock, sighing as he took tossed a bare bone and replaced it with a second leg. Bulma had assumed correctly. The prince hadn’t slept. Exhausting his healing body had left little energy for his mind to pester him with. The tradeoff was worth it. Besides, the man had felt useless the last few days. Finishing a job and feeling well worked was something welcome. The heavy darkness around his eyes and the way he was chewing through the food was testament to that.

\--

**Her POV**

She hadn’t been sitting there for more than twenty minutes before he showed himself. He stunk up the cave with the smell of blood, making her nose wrinkle as she tinkered with one of the parts as it rested in her lap. He’d gotten hungry, apparently. He’d eaten just about everything she had, hadn’t he? If he didn’t, he was probably on his ways to; eating things he’d caught was probably the best option, lest they starve on him not being able to survive on the recommended serving of human food. She looked him up and down and let out a sigh, not even sure what to badger him about first. Stinking up the cave. Exerting himself when he was still healing. Being so rude yesterday. But as she opened her mouth to begin to list her complaints, he beat her to talking, and said something that shut her up. …He was asking her to eat. He gestured to the disgusting carcass, but he was suggesting she eat nonetheless. She stared at him for a moment, blue eyes lingering on his form as it slunk down to get comfortable.

“I– ….I have no interest in eating something like that,” she replied after a moment, trying to sound as if she weren’t all too touched that he’d offer food like that and knowing deep down that once she got hungry enough she’d probably succumb to eating it all the same. But she did lower the technology she’d been tinkering on, resting one hand on top of it as the other found the blanket still sitting at the front door. She threw it in Vegeta’s direction. Of course he hadn’t slept. He clearly hadn’t eaten. He wasn’t usually one to look so… Not weak per se, but it was rare to see him do anything but sit as rigid as a board, looking as angry and irritated as usual. This was different. He, at the very least, seemed… Comfortable. Comfortable with being in her presence, letting her handle the rest of their little mission. There was a feeling to that she couldn’t quite describe. She knew she wasn’t a slave any longer, but she had never felt like she was a comrade. She wasn’t sure whether or not she liked that feeling, but she welcomed the relative silence, and her nose had eventually become blind to the smell of blood as she continued her work.

“You should put more of the cream on your leg,” she told him suddenly, after some more minutes of her working. Her eyes flicked up at him only briefly, raising a brow as she wondered if he had been fully asleep at this point or not. Though she didn’t know a time where Vegeta was anything but partially awake, even when he seemed in the deepest of sleep. Somewhere in there, he was likely listening to her. “I should be done by tomorrow, I think. Whenever ‘tomorrow’ is. I’ll need your help to solder some pieces back together, though. But– You should put cream on your leg again before you do that.”

\--

**His POV**

A thousand pops and crackles fizzled across Vegeta’s brain each and every time he filled his maw with another portion of meat. It was his body’s way of thanking him for the new material it needed to restore itself. His warm back melted against the stone wall of the cave. There was a kind of satisfaction in sitting there while the woman worked, eating his meal. The loud crunch of bone rattled through the cave just as Bulma spoke up. The Saiyan ceased his crunching just long enough to shoot her a deadpanned look, long and unconvinced.

“Since when? Don’t tell me you’d rather have that frozen waste.” Grunt. “Your rations won't last forever.” He shot back at her, then returned to demolishing the meat in hand. While Vegeta knew Bulma had a this ‘thing’ about not taking her meals raw, he’d seen her eat her own kills several times before. What was the difference now? It was hard to believe any being in the universe, even this strange earthling, would favor microwaved meals over something fresh. His mind was interrupted when a blanket came hurling towards his head. The man quickly fumbled and grumbled his way past the fabric, pulling it from his tasseled hair. Giving her another dirty look, one that was far too soft to be meaningful, Vegeta did little more than to use it to wipe the blood from his face. Tossing the blanket aside, he forgot about it completely.

“Since I went back to not living like a barbarian,” she had replied curtly, though Vegeta could tell she did again eye the food. He rolled his eyes at that, feigning that he wasn’t always at least amused when she’d speak so roughly to him. Moments passed and the kill dwindled all the more. There was little left other than the portion Vegeta had originally set aside. Sure, his body begged for it but it was the principle of the thing. He’d dictated it belonged to her and so it shall be. Hunkering himself down further between the rock he sat upon and the stone at his back, his dark eyes watched the woman tinker away at the precious parts he’d gathered for her. With his good knee brought up, he stretched out his sore leg. Was he watching her, or watching over her? Was there even a difference anymore? He needed to watch over her, to ensure she could keep her mind focused while she worked. He needed to stay awake if only to keep things running smoothly. However, as time ticked passed, Vegeta found the sight of her hands moving over metal and the subtle way her body moved from one piece of ship to the other undeniably soothing. He wasn’t giving into sleep, he was merely allowing his body to get comfortable and rest, that’s all.

He must have heard her constant comments due to the gentle grunts he’d give her there and again in return. However, at some point the Saiyan’s eyes had shut. He wasn’t asleep, he told himself. His nose and sense of hearing were on full alert. If he tilted his head back and rested his arms comfortably over his chest, he’d be fine. That was the last complete thought Vegeta had before it was lights out. Lulled into a dreamless darkness by the tinkering sound of metal on metal in the echo of the cave.

\--

**Her POV**

The food at least wasn’t any of those human-like beings, Bulma supposed as she glanced again at the food. That’d be a bit much for her. She supposed she could probably cook it. She had an actual kitchen. She had spices and stuff. She didn’t need to roast it over a fire and just tolerate the flavor anymore. But he seemed to get quiet, and one of the next times she looked in his direction, he was resting. Maybe not asleep, but his eyes were closed. She rolled her eyes and went back to working.

About an hour on however, her stomach was growling- she hadn’t actually eaten yet. The work was coming along rather nicely, at least- the majority of it was done, and she had figured out what had been tampered with the motherboard; it was just a matter of finishing the outer shell, now. And that was a project she’d probably need Vegeta’s help for- she could potentially use some of her other ships as a base, but it was probably a smarter decision to use the original shell, knowing it already could function properly in space. But until then, she had a different problem on her hands. She glanced at the food. Just enough for a human to eat, maybe a bit more than she really needed. She stared back at Vegeta, still resting, and finally set her things to the side. She picked up the meat and inspected it to ensure it was relatively clean, and when she was satisfied, she brought it inside and straight to the kitchen.

Rather than her typical instant noodles, she decided she’d go another way. The meat was dumped into a pot, which was then filled with water and set on the stove. She added noodles once it was cooked enough, and even the frozen vegetables she had sitting in their freezer, and enough spice to make it taste like real food. Forty minutes in, and she had a real meal. Even with how long it had been since she’d been stranded like before, forced to rely off of scraps, this was… Nice. It was nice to remind herself that, at least for the foreseeable future, she didn’t have to let that be reality. The salty, meaty smell that filled the pod was a little victory in itself. She had been somewhat nervous about tasting it still, but after taking a spoonful, she was proud to find that it tasted as good as the scent suggested. A bowl of it was poured, and she made herself comfortable at the sofa.

She felt a little stupid, knowing she’d cried about something like this just one day ago. Then again, plenty of stupid things had been making her cry. If she’d bothered to waste any more time with a therapist, maybe she’d have something more to say about the situation, something else to think of it rather than just the mere frustration of it. And the frustration of knowing she could feel that way one moment, and the next, feel her heart skipping a beat at being pressed to Vegeta’s chest. She blinked, feeling a flood of memories of being all too close to Vegeta in the shell.

Oh, she could probably alter the shell to at least give herself an actual chair.

\--

**His POV**

His nose twitched. Even in his sleep--’resting his eyes,’ as he’d insist--, he could smell it. Something salty, savory, something... Good. One eye perked open to check on Bulma, confirming she was gone, along with the portion of meat he had left her- though the pices of a mostly-complete shell of his ship lay scattered about, testament to Bulma’s working. She must have been cooking it, the same thing she always insisted on doing to her food. The obnoxious habits of the woman seemed to have ways of paying off for him—The food commanded him to pull himself up to his feet and come through the door, to see her standing in the kitchen and stirring a bowl of something divine. With his food, the food she was so insistent that she was too good for. He cleared his throat, and when her blue eyes landed on him, he gave a short nod toward the food. No interest in eating something like that, hm?

He circled the sofa and found himself on the stiff armrest, an arm’s reach from her. He crossed his arms loosely as he glanced her over again. She was keeping her energy up by eating, at the very least. That was something. And from what he had seen outside, the ship was just about finished.

“How is the work going?” He asked gruffly, shifting his weight as he got comfortable. “I’m sick of staying here. It’s taking too long. It looks almost complete, is that correct?”

“That’s right, it’s almost done,” she replied back to him, covering her mouth so politely as she always did, taking her time to finish eating before talking. Another little thing he didn’t quite understand about her. “I just need you to help me so I can solder the parts of the outer shell back together. And I need to make some changes to the inside. Uh...”

He watched as her brows knit in thought, and he wondered quietly if she knew her face so often gave away what she was thinking. She had something she didn’t want to tell him. He watched her lips slide as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, revealing her thoughts in yet another way. And finally, she spoke. “Program changes. The control panel is going to work differently, that’s all.”

A lie, or at least a half-truth, Vegeta was sure. But he let it pass.

\--

**Her POV**

It wasn’t technically a lie. She did have to make changes to the inside, to make sure there was room for her own chair. But this mood he was in—She didn’t want to ruin it by telling him something that could potentially make him angry. And what a strange mood. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. The moment he walked in, when he announced himself with the clearing of his throat and gestured toward her food—His eyes seemed almost gentle. She had stared in silence at him, but he hadn’t said anything about the moment after that. It was a teasing little gesture—Had he ever done that before? Without any malice? Just... Poking fun? Did Vegeta even know what fun was?

Even as they sat on the couch, Bulma swirling her noodles in her bowl before taking another bite, the air felt different. Maybe she was thinking too much about it, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was overcompensating from yesterday. When she was so stupidly emotional, she ran off crying over food. Her brows knit at the memory, and she took another bite of her food. That gaze of his when he walked in stuck in her mind, and before she could think about it, words rolled off her tongue.

“I just... Figured I shouldn’t go to waste, that’s all. It’s not good to have rotting meat outside. It’ll attract animals and bugs.” She couldn’t make Vegeta too pleased with himself, could she? She turned her head to share another gaze. He was looking at her again with that half-amused look, clearly entertained by her attempt to excuse herself. She was caught between it just frustrating her further, and it forcing her heart to skip a beat. Her lips pursed. She nearly went back to eating, but caught herself when she saw she was nearly finished with the bowl. Noodles swirled in the puddle of soup, mixed with slices of that meat he’d left her. She left her chopsticks in the bowl and turned her arm out, offering it up to Vegeta.

“Here. Try it,” she told him, “Meat’s always better when it’s cooked, you know. I’m pretty sure I’ve been telling you that for months now, but here. You can see what it tastes like.”

\--

**His POV**

He blinked when offered the bowl. A measly amount was left, but enough to taste. He was about to scoff and turn her away, but his nose protested. It did smell good. Even just a taste—He would not be eating the food she cooked again unless offered. That meant potentially not getting a bowl of whatever this soup was, other than now. And in the back of his head, he couldn’t help but find this comparable to the small amounts of his own food he always left over for her. He grabbed the bowl from her, perhaps more roughly than he should have, and stared down at the contents circling in the bottom of the bowl before sucking it all down in a single slurp.

Delicious. He refused to look too pleased, refused to lick the bowl or demand seconds, but it was delicious. How did she get it like that? He was never interested in the concept of cooking, but the process still left some amount of wonder.

He handed the empty bowl back to her and gave her a nod. That was as much as he’d provide, refusing to even take too long to glance at her face before he got to his feet.

“You wanted help with soldering the shell back together. Let’s do it, then. Get on with it. I want to get off this planet and find those two traitorous bastards.”

\--

**Her POV**

A smile crept over her lips. He liked it. He didn’t want to admit it, but he liked it. He could try to just look a bit pleased all he wanted, what with the way he just gave her a little nod- But the subtle licks of his lips and his nod to her gave away it all. She couldn’t help but snort a laugh when he all but dropped the bowl in her lap. She set it aside on the table, and just as he tried to walk off, she grabbed his wrist.

“Hey! Wait. I’ve just barely begun to take a break. I’ve been working for hours, I’ll make a mistake if I don’t take enough of a break. Give me a moment. Sit. I need to look at your wounds again.” She knew she was playing with fire, but his recent gentleness—Maybe she’d get away with it. He glanced at her with a tightened jaw at first, but he did seem to listen. He lowered himself down beside her, and leaned back into the sofa. He seemed to be trying to be more gentle with her since yesterday. Since she was stupid and cried and ran away like a child.

“I am fine,” he argued stiffly. ...Maybe they were both children, Bulma thought, amused.

“I don’t care,” She replied back, pulling his shirt up over his head. She took hold of his shoulder and pulled his torso down to take a look at his back; mainly healed. Even with those creams, there was probably bound to be scars left over. She ran a hand over the rough skin, feeling Vegeta’s shiver underneath her fingers. His hand grabbed her arm, and he was up again, staring at her with a more stern look.

“I am fine,” he told her again. “I’ll kill them. Saiyans get stronger when--”

“I just wanted to check,” she insisted, her expression mirroring his own. He didn’t push away from her, like she thought he might. He didn’t get up. He kept their gaze, and Bulma couldn’t help but think about just yesterday, when she felt so safe, pressed up against Vegeta’s chest. Her free hand pressed to his cheek. Her thumb slid along his cheekbone. She pulled herself a little closer to him. His gaze looked similar to just a moment ago. He was confused, she could tell, but he lacked the malice or irritation he constantly had. Was it her imagination? It wasn’t her imagination that she wanted to be closer to him. She wanted to be held again, brought close against his body to feel safe again.

Her nose brushed his, and his eyes turned away. He grabbed the edge of the sofa as if he were about to rise up from his place, but before he had the opportunity, Bulma pressed her lips to his own.

\--

**His POV**

Her lips felt soft against his own, and tasted of salt and meat. His brows knit as Bulma pulled herself up over him. Had she ever initiated something like this before? He thought she hated it, each time he touched her. He’d refused to touch her for so long, expecting it to be good for her to be left alone. And yet here she was, sliding her hands over his chest. His own hands grabbed her thighs, pulling her closer to him. He reveled in the little moan she produced from it.

She’d never pursued him before. He was always the initiator, whether she accepted it or not. This was different. She was actively pursuing him on her own, as her forehead pressed to his and the clear blue ocean of her eyes stared him down, keeping him in place as her hands fumbled with his pants, pulling him down.

She breathed out his name. “Hold me,” she told him, in a whisper. She was the one in control now, she seemed to say. Vegeta accepted his roll. His heart raced, moving his body in whichever way she wanted, from lifting his hips up to make it easier for her to pull his pants around his thighs, to holding her close to him and caressing her too fragile figure. His injured leg throbbed as the blood inside him raised. Nappa had told him once of Saiyan women- how they had such a way of dominating a man even when being in a submissive position, even when they were technically weaker—though many times they were not weaker at all. Bulma did not have the Saiyan look; her blue hair and eyes, her lack of a tail, and her weak, muscle-less body all saw to that. But the energy she had, the way she screamed at him, pushed him away, and now kissed him and made commands of him... Perhaps in some way, she was a Saiyan.

Her lips forced against his own again when she’d shifted a leg outside of her shorts and rolled her hips against him. It ripped a groan from his throat, his lips parting welcomed by Bulma’s tongue.

He let her keep control, satisfied with holding her and exploring her body as she kept the pace. It was tempting to shove her down onto the couch and take her like an animal, but he didn’t dare. The thought of it was lost from his mind completely when she finally grabbed ahold of his cock and guided it inside her. He squeezed her ass, groaning again as she began to bounce on his lap.

\--

**Her POV**

It felt so satisfying, having his body pressed against hers. Holding her, not too tight, just enough to make her feel... Secure. Skin against skin. She closed her eyes, succumbing to Vegeta’s rough hands on her body, to their noses sliding against each other, to his lips, his tongue. To the feeling of his cock filling her up. She nuzzled his face between her kisses, satisfied by every moment that went on where Vegeta didn’t rut into her; where he let her continue her pace as he did no more than squirm under her, no more than hold her and kiss her back. Could he tell, that it was what she needed?

At what point had he become so attentive?

She pulled back from him, cupping the connect of his neck and shoulders with gentle hands as she bounced and stared down at him. He was actively trying not to get rough with her, she could tell in the tightness of his jaw and the way couldn’t stop but rock his hips up just a tad with her bounces. His eyes closed, and she bit her bottom lip in a smile.

He could go from this, to being so aggressive, denying her food and shrugging her off like nothing more than scum to him, to keeping a gentle eye on her as she worked and keeping her safe from harm to, now, letting her do as she pleased with his own body.

Her hands held his shoulders tighter and she leaned her head back as she rocked her hips faster. She heard him mumble her name, and she moaned in reply, her eyes closing. Their voices were getting more ragged, breathing harsher and deeper the quicker she bounced her hips. He gripped her tighter, until their voices mixed as they both hit their peak.

Sweat rolled down her stomach from under her breast, and after collecting herself, she opened her eyes again to look down at Vegeta. He’d all but melted against the side of the couch, his muscles having relaxed after he’d cum.

“What-- What the hell was that about?” He asked her, with a raised brow, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“I... Wanted to,” She admitted, unsure of the real answer. She’d wanted to be held. She’d liked his body against hers. She’d felt her heart beating faster with the way he’d been looking at her today. So... She’d wanted to.

\--

**His POV**

“Wanted to,” He repeated. His eyes opened, half-lidded. She shrugged at him, staying on his lap as she fixed her clothing. She looked a mess. He always liked her better that way, as much as the woman loved to primp herself. He didn’t bother to fix himself until she pulled herself up to her feet—with a hint of a wobble—and reminded him of what they were originally meant to be doing.

“Come on. I can’t finish the ship until I get you to solder the ship back together with your ki powers,” she told him. He obliged, getting his shirt and pants back on and following her. She felt... To some degree, back to herself. For the time being. This assertiveness is what he preferred, even if he scoffed at her command. Not the crying and running into the forest. If given thrown a bone in the form of being given some control kept her feeling like herself, he could get used to it. Though he’d be damned if she ever had to hear that thought come out his mouth.

“Woman,” he spoke. She didn’t slow down at all, leading him right out of the pod and finding the two parts she wanted to start with.

“Here. These two parts,” she pointed. “They’re too heavy for me. I need you to put them together and solder them.”

He grunted. There it was. The assertiveness. The tingle left over of his orgasm hadn’t even left his body, and she was commanding him around. She raised her brows expectantly at him. ...He’d have a chance to rip Nappa’s head right off his shoulders soon, and it would be thanks to Bulma. Saving his life, finding a base, finding a way to get them off this planet... He recalled that traitor’s stories of female Saiyans again. Maybe she was a Saiyan in her own right.

He got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, there's a few ole RP replies in this but it bleeds into my own writing. I hope you guys like it! This chapter is a bit shorter than others are, but I hope you guys don't mind it. It's less repetitive so I think less words are needed. I just need to get into a groove. I'm thinking I'll try to do a reply a day or something so I'll have a good amount to post at the end of every other week. 
> 
> By the way, if you guys notice any plotholes or any inconsistencies, please tell me. A lot of the RP was written a while ago so it's hard to remember certain things, lmao.


	13. Purple Haze and Red Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta finally get off the planet they were stranded on. Vegeta seeks revenge.

**Her POV**

It didn’t take long for the work on the outer shell to be completed. His  ki worked perfectly to solder all the pieces together, and at some point, she had him chuck the thing just to make sure it was safe enough that it likely wouldn’t fall apart again. It seemed successful. The internal workings were much easier to get together. She had managed to find some parts from other tools in capsules around the pod that worked perfectly to give them two separate chairs. Rather than one deep chair taking the space of the whole pod, there were now two seats side-by-side, separated by a thick cushion that ended by connecting to the control panel. It would be tight, the same as the pod was always tight, but she was no longer going to be relegated to sitting in his feet or in his lap.

She’d taken a moment to glance back at  Vegeta to see his reaction at it, once she’d installed the two chairs. He hadn’t said a word, surprisingly enough, even when she knew he had noticed. She wasn’t sure what to think of that, but it was better than a fight breaking out because he decided that he didn’t want her to have her own personal space. If she were lucky, maybe she could have her own pod. If they couldn’t just go back to a comfortable space ship again. At the very least, these cramped pods were boring to lay in for hours on end. She’d nearly gotten what she wanted, too. Why these  Saiyans still insisted on those stupid pods were beyond her. Any benefits were outweighed by how damn boring and cramp-inducing it was.

Which is also why she ended up programming a television into the command panel. The same as small ones people occasionally saw in the backs of cars for children, or in commercial airlines—Just something to keep her busy. They were bound to pick up alien TV signals at some point, right? She’d saw how disgusting or nonsensical it could be, but there was bound to be something watchable. Before that sitting in silence for hours. 

“I thought you said it was almost done,” Vegeta huffed behind her. Her brows immediately wrinkled.

“And it is. I’m just making sure everything works,” she replied from where she knelt, on the open door of the pod, fiddling with the internal workings of the command panel. And after screwing a few things into place, it lit up. She turned her head to look back at  Vegeta , feeling rather proud of herself while he clearly was trying to avoid looking too pleased. At least, that’s what she’d like to think his expression said. 

“Alright. It’s done.”

* * *

**His POV**

It had taken her long enough. He was expecting it to be done as soon as it was put together, not spend another hour watching her fiddle with the internal workings of the pod. It made him suspicious, but there was no way the woman would want to stay on this planet. He’d already noticed a few of those blasted monkeys coming and going to check on them from afar. No, he knew the woman. She would not be interested in staying on this forsaken planet. She wouldn’t risk doing something stupid with the pod. Not when the death of at least one of her captors awaited her. She was probably the only one that wanted Nappa dead more than Vegeta himself did.

He blew air out his nose in a rough huff at the thought of that bald bastard. He’d be coming for him, soon. Was he ready?

“Good,” he told her, grabbing the pod and carrying it over his shoulder out the mouth of the cave. He could hear the pop of the capsule house behind him just a moment later, and the scutter of  Bulma’s feet as she caught up with him. He dropped the pod in the grass, and squinted up at the sky. They’d spent far too much time on this planet.  Bulma had complained in passing of these multiple suns, but Vegeta was used to planets like this by now. The two suns were closer to each other than when they first arrived. How long had it been? A week? How far were those morons by now? His hands clenched at the thought, and he dropped himself down into the pod with a thud. More cramped than ever, thanks to that stupid second chair  Bulma had insisted on putting in. Something he didn’t say a word about. She looked fairly proud of herself as she sat beside him. He could offer her that, he supposed.

“Oh,”  Bulma spoke, leaning forward. “Look, those monkey people again. They look like they’re bowing at us or something, don’t they?” Why did she care? He glanced in their direction. All he saw were them flailing around like... Like monkeys.

“Get on with it already. I want to know where they are.”

“Geeze, okay, okay.” She nodded along and pressed the button to close the pod. It sealed with a ‘hiss,’ and she clicked away at a few buttons before a map showed up. A map with Earthling lettering. She’d translated this shit too, had she? He glanced her over. He supposed she’d have to understand all of it for her to be of any use. The screen beeped, and eyes came back to the map. It had found the coordinates of the others’ pods. The bastards were filling their missions on his behalf! He knew where that planet was. His jaw clenched. Overthrow their prince, would they? Those bastards would be dust when he got to them. He’d be the last Saiyan. True Saiyan, anyway. Those two disgraces on Earth didn’t need to count. Or, one-and-a-half disgraces, he supposed.

“Oh, and you know what I’ve made this time, too?”  Bulma spoke up. He raised a single brow and turned his head to see her... Buckling herself in. “I’m not going to go flying next time.” 

He checked his own chair; he had a seatbelt, as well. Pride dictated that he didn’t touch it. Instead, he set the pod to lift off, to the coordinates of those two traitors. He at least found some entertainment in the surprised gasp  Bulma made at the pod taking off before she had a chance to lock her seatbelt into place.

* * *

**Her POV**

From the moment he decided to send the pod out to its location without giving her a head’s up, she knew that she wasn’t going to enjoy how long this journey was. Once she was properly secure, she shot Vegeta a look, and was irked to find he was refusing to even look her way. But she knew exactly how he felt by the way his brows were- Just slightly lifted, with the littlest suggestion of a crease above them. He thought it was funny. She scowled and resisted the urge to slap him. No, she’d be better than that. She was not about to start something in this pod. She was going to enjoy that small sense of freedom she’d obtained by creating her own chair. 

Her fingers found the control panel, and after a few buttons, the window that revealed space’s glory was clouded by a video of whatever television they were picking up. They were greeted by, to  Bulma’s surprise, an actual movie. An alien movie, sure, and she didn’t understand any of what she heard, but it was better than nothing. A romance, by the look of it. Two aliens with skin of icy blue, that looked almost like what she’d imagine elves would look like in real life, held each other in the rain while a tentacled alien stood just a few feet away, an intense look in his eyes.

“Have you ever watched this one before, Vegeta?” She asked, glancing in his direction. His hand had fallen to rest on a tight fist at some point, his elbow propped up against the side of the pod. He didn’t answer. Had he even heard her? There was no hint of it. No twitch of his ears or tail. Just silence. He was likely thinking about the one thing he couldn’t stop thinking of. Killing Nappa and Raditz.

Her brows knit. Maybe he was better off left to his own thoughts. Her heart throbbed at a clump grew in her throat at the mere idea of angering Vegeta in this little pod again. She took a breath and glanced away, focusing her attention again on the movie—Only stealing just one more glance at the man beside her. 

Maybe she should be relieved, that he was potentially showing some semblance of thought about taking someone else’s life. Then again, for all she knew, that wasn’t it at all. Maybe he was just dwelling on all the different ways he could murder them. Yep, that definitely sounded more like Vegeta to her. She recalled each and every time he’d pummeled them into the ground. The time they laughed when she’d gouged Nappa’s eye out and stomped on it. 

That was a particular memory that made her feel sick. A reminder that she was no better than him. She’d felt so invigorated, in that moment- completely high off adrenaline. Would it be better, once the other  Saiyans were gone? Would there be less constant violence? She could no longer live a normal life, she knew that. But would there be some semblance of safety, if it were just her and Vegeta? She bit her lip. Maybe they both had a lot to think about, during this ride. 

Music akin to windchimes rang from the movie as the two lovers pressed their lips together, while the tentacled alien turned and walked away.

* * *

**His POV**

He hadn’t heard a thing  Bulma said or paid attention to a thing she did from the moment his mind began to wander to what he’d do when he saw those two traitorous fools again. Perhaps he’d let Raditz go if he groveled enough; the fool was particularly stupid and low-bred enough that he mainly just followed directions. Now, Nappa... Nappa was the one with any real brains that would do something like try to oust him. And he’d kill him for it. There would be no going back from something like this. Nappa had tried to kill him. His prince. And he’d over and over again undermined his authority. Accused him of not being a Saiyan, with the way he ‘coddled’  Bulma . Hell, he should have his head for his attempts at  Bulma alone, even after Vegeta had claimed her as his. As soon as Vegeta’s back was turned, there was always another attempt to undermine his authority. 

How would he do it? Slowly and excruciatingly? Or perhaps he should blow him to kingdom come the moment he saw him, and hope that it terrified Raditz enough to immediately bend the knee? Then again—He wasn’t the only one to be furious. Nappa only had one eye because of the woman that was continuously wronged by him, as well. The woman that was responsible for Nappa’s current constant outbursts. He only glanced briefly in the blue woman’s direction, staring forward into the window. Lines etched into his cheek as his scowl deepened. This is how it had to end, after everything. 

Nappa had raised him from the moment their planet had been blown up. He’d cared about royalty then. He must have been getting senile with age. It was almost pathetic that he’d gone this long without dying in battle anyway- It would be a kindness to kill him, before he could get too old to properly fight. Almost more of a kindness than he deserved. How many times had Vegeta let him go free for something he should have been severely punished for? If anything, Vegeta had been far too lenient. The weak Earthling sitting beside him had maimed Nappa in a way that Vegeta had never bothered to. She had done something far more Saiyan than Vegeta had thought to. And it was time, then, that Vegeta step back up to being Prince.

And yet, how many times had Nappa fed him, clothed him, trained him? How many moves did he know specifically because Nappa had taught him? Then again—He-- ...No, he wouldn’t think about that. 

He forced himself from his thoughts before he delved deeper into  memories he’d like best to forget, and it was only then that he noticed that the window was actually a—A television monitor. His brows furrowed. When the hell did that happen?

“Oh, you’re not zoning out anymore?” 

He scowled at the woman, and slumped back into his chair. Did she need to sound so patronizing? He was a prince, after all. … Though if he had to keep reminding people of that, perhaps it was losing its weight. And in that case, it was about time he made sure that people remembered again. 

“What the hell is this crap? Put something else on,” He finally commanded,  Bulma’s huff ringing in his ears as soon as the words left his mouth. 

“You’re not the one that worked so hard at getting this back together. You can change the channel as soon as you figure out how to, without me telling you how.” ...One person would be able to act like that to him again. She deserved it, by now, after proving her worth. But no one else, ever again.

* * *

**Her POV**

The time did not go by too gruelingly,  Bulma found. Vegeta might have periodically went back to zoning out, likely thinking about what he’d do to the two other  Saiyans once their travel ended, but the movies made it alright. And she did take a short nap at some point. It was more comfortable to do, once she had her own space. No being jostled or groped. And Vegeta respected that chair. Never did he say a word or start trying to pull her closer. No. She was—An equal, now. Her own person. She had long since not been a slave, but she wasn’t simply not a slave anymore. She wasn’t relegated to some concubine position, she was herself. And that made it plenty easy to sleep.

She stirred at the tail end of one of the movies she put on, again to find Vegeta staring blankly. Had he slept at all? It was quite the travel, even with how fast this pod flew. ...She tried not to think about the possibility of Vegeta losing the fight between himself and Nappa if he was half-rested and still wounded. He hadn’t even let her put more cream on that leg of his, the one she knew was still weak. What was he thinking? Some pride thing, no doubt. Her brows furrowed, and as the movie ended, she began tapping away at the control panel to bring up the map. They were getting close. Approximately four minutes, it said. 

Her heart was already leaping. How long would it take to find the others? What if they’d already found some other spaceship and escaped the planet, and this was some other plot or ploy? What if, by the end of this, she was killed, or worse? Treated like a slave all over again? She glanced toward her shipmate, who had noticed what she was doing. His eyes had gone from glazed over in thought, to focusing on the map. She could see the tension in his jaw. She gulped. It was one thing to ride the high of imagining her enemies dying while they rested in relative safety, it was another thing entirely to be closing in on the battle. 

“You will be staying in the pod,” Vegeta commanded, his black eyes suddenly zeroing in on her. That wasn’t exactly something she’d disagree with. It sounded like a perfectly reasonable thing to her. She nodded. And if things went wrong, she could always leave. But they wouldn’t go wrong, right?

“...How are you feeling?” She dared question. He didn’t answer at first. His jaw rolled as he seemingly thought. He then straightened. The pod began to beep, alerting of impending impact. 

“I feel murderous,” he replied. She tsk’d. He could never take care of himself, could he? Hell, he could barely take care of her, even when he seemingly wanted to. She tightened up her seatbelt and sat a little straighter. And hoped that the way she put this pod together, it wouldn’t just fall to pieces again. It wasn’t as if the Capsule Corporation was known for spaceships...

* * *

**His POV**

The landing was smooth. As expected of that woman. He hadn’t thought anything less of her, until he saw her looking a bit tense in the corner of his eye. That’s when he was beginning to wonder if the pod was actually built for impact. But it was smoother than usual, even. They landed with a few thuds, and they both stayed in their place—though Vegeta had been ready to jolt out a hand for her, if necessary. 

The pod door sizzled open, and Vegeta stepped out. The air was murky. A high-humidity planet, but nothing that seemed inherently dangerous to the Earthling, as far as he could tell. He sniffed. Nothing, so far. He’d have to go scouting. He glanced down at  Bulma . She was staring up at him with wide eyes, colored a dark violet by the haze of the atmosphere. He gave her a nod, and the pod door shut again. ...Something was giving him a bad feeling, though. How many times had that woman gotten into trouble when he wasn’t around? And especially with the mission... Especially with these two morons wandering about... He picked up the pod and held it over his shoulder, before lifting into the air to begin his scouting.

Everything on the blasted planet was filled with a haze, so he relied mainly on scent. Luckily for him, the blasted place smelled, too. Mostly an earthly smell, of mud and freshly watered plants and petrichor. A more optimistic person might think that he should be grateful that the smells were pleasant. But Vegeta didn’t give a shit; the only thing that concerned him was smelling the sweaty, bloody bodies of the Saiyan traitors or their enemies. Stealing his goddamn mission. His nostrils flared. 

And after twenty minutes or so, rather than catch a whiff of their stench, he... Felt something. An instinct, almost. Like a jolt of electricity hitting him in the temple. His brows tightened and he looked around. He recognized the feeling, after a moment of deliberation. It felt like  ki . He’d never been able to properly sense it like this before; it was always just an aura that emanated off of things that were expelling large amounts of energy, large enough to go off the radar of older models of scouters. But this wasn’t that strong, he could feel it in his bones. And it felt like... 

“Raditz.” 

He blew toward the direction, dead-set on where this would be ending.  Raditz better hope he had just stupidly gone alone with what  Nappa had said without thinking of consequences, and grovel at his feet for mercy. It did not take long to reach him; it was easy enough to fly above the trees and spot them both. The two were camping, comfortably eating the parts of some sorry alien while they laughed over something. He seethed as he stared from afar. To top it all off, the idiots didn’t even sense him behind their backs. He may have been far away, but hadn’t they been trained better? They were always fools. They were never worthy of him. Hardly ones to even be called Saiyans.

And yet, he had been nearly downed by one of those fools.

He could hear  Bulma clattering around in the pod as he jostled it to get it to sit more comfortably on his shoulder. She wouldn’t want to be too close. He could only picture what  Nappa would do if he feared losing this fight. He took her down into the swamp again and set the pod down in the soil. She watched him from behind the window, looking anxious. Did it excite her, knowing he’d be killing at least one of her previous captors tonight?

He flew off without another word, his heart thumping like a war drum. He had been a lone prince with no planet for this long, it would not change things to go from being ‘the last of the Saiyans’ to ‘the last Saiyan’ if it came to that.

* * *

**Her POV**

It did not take long for anxiety and boredom to set in. There was not much to do, in that little pod, and she still hadn’t been allowed to stretch her legs. What were the chances that  Vegeta would lose, and that she would still manage to escape?  Surely she’d be found by  Nappa and  Raditz by the time she realized  Vegeta was likely dead, right? ... Surely she’d be better to sneak over and watch the fight and see if she should escape or not, right?

She stared out at the swirling mists that awaited her. ...How many times had she been pinned down in muddy terrain just like this? She could feel a lump in her throat rise. But worse yet, was the idea of sitting and waiting to get confirmation of  Vegeta’s fate. Of maybe never knowing, if the other two went on their way without finding her. Her hand hovered over the control panel. Technically, she didn’t even know if this planet was safe for her. There could be things ready to eat her, the soil could melt her feet off for all she knew. ...But she was  Vegeta’s equal now. And equals did not sit idly by.

She opened the pod door and climbed out into the mud, none too pleased to find how deep it was. It sucked at her shoes and threatened to rip them from her feet, but each time she rose her legs up, it let go with a ‘ thwop .’ 

She had been grateful to get a good idea in the window of where she was relative to  Nappa and  Raditz . The  Saiyans seemed to have eyesight far superior to her own, but he’d at least been close enough that even she was able to see them, sitting together in a clearing. A clearing just forward. 

She took too deep a breath of the purple haze that thickened the air and gave a subsequent cough. It at least didn’t seem too suffocating, just... Irritating, especially irritating to her body already ailing from the symptoms of whatever bug that she’d been infected with. Hopefully it wouldn’t cause any long-term damage. Not that that mattered right now, if she and  Vegeta ended up dead from the hands of those brutes. 

She squinted up at the magenta sky as she sloshed through the swamp. Times like this, she wished she could fly. Hopefully she’d make it there before everything was finished.

* * *

**His POV**

It was tempting to just blast their heads off right then. But that wouldn’t be satisfying. He wanted to make sure the two morons knew exactly what hit them. His feet touched the ground behind the both of them with a tap, and he let them continue on bantering to each other and rip apart pieces of meat like goddamn hyenas for a while longer, before Raditz finally turned his head to say something to Nappa and noticed Vegeta staring at them through the corner of his eye.

“...You’re alive!” Raditz burst out after a moment of processing. Nappa immediately shot around, his one eye bulging.

“You’re alive?!” 

Well. It wouldn’t take a moron to see how exactly this had played out. It had been something that Nappa had done on his own, then. And likely just told some stupid lie to the idiot of their team, if anything at all. Vegeta licked his lips as he readied a fighting stance. Raditz, clearly sensing the atmosphere, grabbed the remainder of his food and made for a safe place to eat and watch the show.

“You’ve gone too far, you fool,” Vegeta spit as Nappa stood before him. He could smell the fear mixed in with the swear on his brow. “If you wanted to kill me, at least don’t try it in such a cowardly way.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you, I--” He must have been able to sense what Vegeta knew from the way he stared at him alone, because without another word, he tossed a  ki ball in his direction and jumped into the air. Vegeta followed him, the hazy air filling his lungs as he sped. His hand coiled around the thigh ankle he caught in the air, and swung. Mud leaped as his body hit the ground, and Vegeta’s thick forearm wiped what part of it had splattered over his eyes. As his vision was cleared, all he saw was a giant light headed his way.

“You won’t kill me that easy!” He howled as he slapped it aside and zeroed down to meet the bald man standing in the mud. He knocked Nappa straight off his feet, and the wind out of him along with it. It gave him time to get blows in, punching Nappa’s head from right to left and back again, before he’d finally felt knuckles collide with his own jawbone.

It rattled skull, but all the energy that had been pushed from Nappa came back again in the force of a punch that left Nappa’s teeth flying. And just as quickly as Vegeta had gotten on top of him, he’d gotten back up, one foot squaring itself on top of the big lug’s neck. He coughed a hoarse gasp as he attempted to get oxygen, and with his hand finding a hold on Vegeta’s ankle, Vegeta didn’t have time to hesitate. He grabbed the other arm and pulled, tearing flesh from bone as it went ripping straight out of his shoulder socket.

* * *

**Her POV**

“Holy shit.”

She gawked as she wiped the mud from her face. She’d been horrified enough at the sea of swamp water that had got tossed in all directions as Vegeta had slung Nappa downward. And that was before she even really had a chance to see anything as she came up between some trees. As soon as she had a clear line of view—She began to wish she was back in the pod.

“Yeah, he’s angry,”  Bulma jumped to hear Raditz’s voice as he mused between chews of some alien meat. “Nah, calm down. Don’t worry. I’m glad Vegeta’s back. Nappa’s a shit leader. I’m a moron, but at least I know we should have a game plan. Nappa’s no good at that.”

Bulma’s face wrinkled. ...Huh. A  ki blast went whizzing over the heads before she could think too hard about her feelings on the long-haired Saiyan. Vegeta had deflected a  ki blast from Nappa with the bigger man’s own damn arm, flinging it like a toy before slapping him with it again. Nappa had at least stopped screaming that bloodcurdling scream he had right when Vegeta had pulled it off, but she couldn’t help but think that may have been more than he may have been drifting into shock. He’d barely even been able to get back up again, and even as he flew back into the sky, Vegeta had just as quickly grabbed him again to toss him back down.

And yet, she couldn’t feel sickened. Awed, surely, but... With every horrible thing Vegeta did to him next, she could only picture all the faces of the people Nappa had hurt. That family at the tea shop. That other girl at that hotel, before she’d ripped Nappa’s eye out. Herself. Each time Nappa put his dirty, disgusting hands on her body. It did not fill her with joy to watch this. But it did leave her with a buzzing, warm feeling in her bones. A quickness of her breath and heart. Excitement. Catharsis.

* * *

**His POV**

“You fucking bastard,” Vegeta spat, slapping him with his own hand again. “What the fuck did you expect, trying to kill me?! Even if you succeeded, I’d drag myself back from hell to murder you! Don’t fucking forget it!” Every fiber of his being shook with rage. Nappa looked small, laying in the mud like he was. Nothing like what Vegeta always remembered. Nothing like the man that had raised him. Nothing like--

Vegeta squatted over him, and with his free hand, gripped his chin. 

“Do you fucking remember what you used to tell me when I was little? About those who were weak, deserving to be stepped on? How if you weren’t strong, you weren’t a Saiyan?” He spit the man’s face, and toughened his grip when he tried to turn his head. The bloody phlegm ran down his nose and pooled beside his bad eye. It rose memories that Vegeta hadn’t thought about for a long time. Being young, covered in gashes from Nappa’s training. Being pinned in the dirt. Being held by the chin by a man over twice his age and multiple times his size. Being-- 

He turned his head in the direction he’d sensed  Bulma’s ki . He knew the girl would be stupid enough to not stay put. When had she ever stayed put? Stubborn in everything she did. He couldn’t blame her. Who wouldn’t want to see their abuser die? 

The hand on Nappa’s chin traveled down, sliding along gore and circling his fingers around his neck. He tightened his grip, and pulled. Nappa coughed again. He fought back like he hadn’t in a while. He kicked, and whacked him over and over with his one arm. A  ki blast grazed his ear, burning the edge of it and singing his hair. But he pulled. The pop was not unlike the ones that had plagued Vegeta’s jaw since  Bulma had opened a capsule inside his mouth. And after the pop, Nappa let out a crude, long-winded moan. His body hung limply, even though his eye was still focused on Vegeta. Even though his brow still twitched. He pulled harder, and stomped a foot on Nappa’s chest. The rest came easier. As the skin tore, it sloughed and curled apart from itself in layers only to be completely masked by a river of blood. The moans stopped. The eye blinked once again, before that look of recognition left him.

Vegeta dropped Nappa’s arm. He gazed into the eye of the man he once knew for minutes longer. The man that had raised him, taught him the evils of this world. A new spurt of blood spat out from the hole under his head as Vegeta squeezed his neck again. He took a step away from Nappa’s body. And then another. And then flew toward the two people that had been silently watching.

Bulma stared with eyes the largest he’d ever seen them. Even with the purple hue of this planet, he could tell she was turning green at his trophy. Her trophy.

He dropped it to her feet. Raditz quietly stepped back from it.

“Here,” Vegeta spoke, attempting to sound something possibly describable as ‘gentle.’ “You’ve wanted him dead more than I ever have. Take a good, hard look. He’s gone. And you’re replacing him.”

“I don’t want—What?”

“You’re a Saiyan, now.” 

* * *

**Her POV**

The sick squirting noise that the head made when Vegeta had dropped it at her feet lingered in her ears as found herself in some terrible balance between being unable to look at the thing, and being unable to look away from it. Vegeta remedied that for her when he said something so absurd as her being a Saiyan. She wrinkled her face as she turned up to look at him, but there was no hint of him joking. 

“A Saiyan?” She asked incredulously. Raditz let out a whistle behind her. She got a glance at him, as Vegeta spoke up again.

“You maimed this bloody moron before I ever did. He had one eye before this fight began, didn’t he? That was  your doing, woman. Regardless of whether or not you’re proud of it. And you—Today, these past weeks. You proved you’re a Saiyan.” For saving him, he meant. She could read between the lines. She stared back at him. How was she meant to feel about that? The  Saiyans had been the ones to... ...But she certainly didn’t feel human anymore, either. Maybe somewhere along the way, with all the violence—She turned her muddy hands over. How many times had she hurt other people by now? How many times had she violently stabbed and attacked things, without thinking about it? 

“There’s a ritual,” Vegeta spoke. It was news to her that the  Saiyans were even civilized enough to keep traditions. Traditions beyond just blindly killing other people, anyway. And eating them. If one could call either of those traditions. “Pick up the head.”

“Wh-- No, I’m not--”

“Woman.” His eyes were dark as he spoke, and hard to read. It was not his usual tone for when she angered him enough to want to hurt her, nor when he felt frustration from her getting under his skin. It was something different. She kept quiet, and he ordered her again. “Pick up the head.” 

She looked down at it again, immediately feeling her stomach flop. She glanced to  Raditz for support, and saw him more serious than she’d ever seen him before. Her heart thumped, and she didn’t complain as she reached down to pick  Nappa’s severed head up, the crook of her hands cradling either ear. The skin was still damp and sticky from perspiration. His gaze stayed frozen, in the midst of contorting in pain. She could nearly choke on the thick air. 

“When there were more than just three  Saiyans around, when we still had a planet, there was a coming of age ritual,”  Vegeta said. “You bathe in the blood of your enemy.” His hands gripped her forearms, and he began to speak something. Their language. She’d heard it before, hadn’t she? A while back, he’d taught her a bit of it, though she didn’t remember a lick of it. He raised her arms.  Nappa’s blood splattered and sunk down her skin, peppering up to her biceps. When she looked up at him, his gaping neck was in full view, black from heavy gore. She winced as a spot of blood dripped onto her cheek, heavy and thick. She sucked in the thick air, pregnant with the smell of iron. Vegeta’s grasp on her arms loosed, and he spoke his gutteral tongue louder yet. Raditz, on occasion, repeated it back to him. 

“Close your eyes,” he interrupted his language to tell her. She did as he commanded, her heart thumping in her ears. A gentle wind that clogged her senses with iron and earth offered to cool her sticky skin, though the moist strands of hair clinging to her skin refused to budge. Another heavy glob of blood splattered on her skin. Her forehead, this time. She shivered as  Vegeta spoke, nearly to the point of yelling. It became a chant that  Raditz’s voice joined into, coupled with a rhythmic thump of hands against body.

She felt a gentle tug against her grip on the head. There was a squelch, and the heavy drizzle of iron became a rain of blood against her skin. She squeezed her eyes tighter, and quickly clamped her mouth shut. That was for nothing; the taste of metal swirled on her tongue, and she had no choice but to swallow. The blood filled her nose, sunk into the roots of her hair and curled along her ears. She was even forced to squeeze her eyes tighter closed, the way it lingered and begged to enter between her eyelids. 

The weight tugging against her grip fell away, and  Vegeta’s hands pressed to her face. His thumbs wiped her eyes. The chant ended, replaced with him speaking softer, this time. Though both  Vegeta’s hands were on her face, the head was taken from her by another pair of hands. The mud squelched near her feet, and a glob of cool soil speckled her shins.  Vegeta guided her face forward again. 

“Open your eyes.”

* * *

**His POV**

The deep blue of her irises contrasted heavily to the red that caked her entire head. Even her hair had darkened under the color of  Nappa’s blood. Did it make her feel alive, like it did him when he went through the process? Every ounce of one’s being, enveloped by blood. There was no greater thrill than defeating one’s enemy, he’d always been told. Not just by  Nappa . No, he could remember far enough into his childhood to remember a time when there were more  Saiyans to talk to than  Raditz and himself. He remembered his father, albeit vaguely. War and fighting is what made a Saiyan a Saiyan. Without blood, what were they?

...Human, maybe. Kakarot--

“You are one of us,”  Vegeta told her as her hands folded, holding onto herself like she’d been caught in the middle of a frigid rainfall. “A Saiyan. You might not have our genes, but you’re one of us. An equal.”

She didn’t say anything. For a moment, he was certain she’d puke right onto him. Perhaps this was too much for a human to understand. She’d been so quick to cry and whine over even the smallest bout of violence. But then... Over time, she had done plenty of equally as violent things, even knowing she was nothing but an insect to them in terms of strength. His jaw popped as he flexed it, as if to make a point.

“I’m equal to you,” She finally spoke up. His brow raised. 

“Yes, you are. In a manner of speaking.” He watched as the deep blue eyes flicked down, as if she had to contemplate. He could not help himself but crack the beginnings of a smile. She’d seemed to even forgotten for the time being, the blood covering her features, and continuing to creep down her neck and soil her clothes. Did it at least satisfy her to know who’s blood it was? Not of anyone she deemed innocent; the blood of someone she thought deserved to die. There had been no fear or sorrow on her face when he’d brought it to her, only disgust. 

“...So. How did you guys make it out alive?”  Raditz had spoken up.  Vegeta shot him a look. The long-haired man stiffened. “I-- I swear, I thought you had just had some kind of whack--”

“That moron rigged our pod to crash-land and break apart. We fell from high enough up that I had caught fire. I  _ would  _ have been dead. If not for...” He glanced toward  Bulma . They shared a gaze. He wouldn’t bother to say it;  Raditz could connect the dots and  Bulma could find pride in her own mind rather than any words directly out of his own mouth. Suck things did not need to be directly said. She had saved his life. She knew it. She didn’t need to be reminded again, as far as he was concerned. 

“He was a traitor. He paid the price. It was a worthless fight, anyway. Nothing to deem worthy of Saiyan strength. Did you finish the blasted mission, at least?”

“We did.”

“Good. I’m in no mood for cleaning up anyone else’s shit right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrightie. This one's a bit longer but not quite the 14 pages I used to do pretty consistently. After writing I realized that, because there is far less repetition, it's not really realistic to keep 14 pages. Expect this length or shorter going forward. It might seem disappointing but I think overall it's a matter of quality over quantity. Please let me know what you think.  
> Also, this thing has been going on for years and a lot of stuff we foreshadowed on or created gets lost with time in my ol' noggin, and I'm already forgetful. I always appreciate comments if you're confused about something, you think there's a missing plotpoint, etc. I might not reply but if it's not something that I had already planned (there is definitely stuff I remember and am continuing on with, trust me), it'll help me remember and potentially come back to it.
> 
> Thank you all for staying with me! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.


	14. Letting Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta broods. Bulma learns a bit about Raditz and Vegeta's past with Nappa.

**Her POV**

Vegeta didn’t want to leave immediately. Which was good for Bulma; she didn’t want to go right back into that cramped pod for another few hours, after only just stretching her legs. And she didn’t want to immediately ruin the thing with blood. She was lucky on that front, too- Vegeta was initially irritable at the idea of her cleaning herself off, but after enough complaining he told her to ‘get the damn house out of the pod and go clean yourself then.’ 

Cleaning herself, however, was its own issue. All her senses had been coated in iron, but it wasn’t until she got into the shower that it was revealed how covered in blood she was. It seemed no matter how much she scrubbed, there was still red circling the drain. After four washes, her hair had a tinge to it, dulling it into a more grayish blue. Better than the blatant deep red it had been before, she supposed. Still, she washed. After what felt like forever, after her fingers had pruned and the water ran clear, she was satisfied. As satisfied as she could be. She could swear the smell lingered. The image of Nappa’s one good eye staring at her certainly lingered. Even after she had turned off the water left the heat of the shower, when she looked in the mirror, she felt... Odd. Maybe at some point she would have used a word like ‘grotesque,’ but that didn’t feel right anymore. Even before Vegeta had baptized her a Saiyan, she had become accustom to their ways. But even being accustom meant feeling nauseous. Her mind swam. Those eyes staring back at her—They hadn’t become tinged with red, like her hair had. They had not become a muted blue-gray. They were the same saturated, deep blue they’d always been. 

But even Bulma had known the way they stared back at her was different from how they used to. 

She was always slowly becoming a Saiyan, wasn’t she? Ever since they first kidnapped her. She’d just... Completed the transformation. There was worry in the eyes that stared back at her, as she dwelled on that. She lacked a tail, and she lacked ki, but all the same, there was a reason why she couldn’t fit in on Earth anymore. And it was the same reason why Vegeta and Raditz and Nappa couldn’t fit in on Earth, either. The same reason they declared Goku wasn’t a Saiyan. 

She tried herself with a towel and began to dress herself in clean clothes. As human and Earthly as they looked, she could at least give herself that luxury- no matter how much of a Saiyan Vegeta turned her into, she could wear as she pleased. Some part of it still brought her happiness. Not like it used to; nothing brought her happiness in the same way it used to, so long ago. But it was something. A reminder of what used to be. And she could live with that. 

She sneezed just as soon as she was finished getting herself together. She scowled. On top of everything else, whatever sickness she’d had for the past week hadn’t let up. 

As she wiped her nose and washed her hands off, she could hear Raditz and Vegeta raiding her kitchen as she fixed her crop top to sit right. They’d more than likely already eaten the entire thing of soup she’d made only just the meal before. She breathed out sharply, acutely aware of what her last meltdown had been about. And once she’d decided she was completely cleaned up, she opened the door to scowl at the two as they fought over a packet of ramen. 

* * *

**His POV**

Vegeta ripped the packet away from Raditz, tore it open, and shoveled the hard block of preserved food in his mouth without even being aware that Bulma had stepped back out from the bath. She had been in there for obnoxiously long, more of an insult on top of the already insulting insistence of hers to clean off the blood that marked her a Saiyan. Vegeta had worn the blood on his day as a child, all the way until rain washed it out. But that wasn’t like the woman. She always did like things... Clean. 

His eyes fell on her as his jaw popped through his chewing. Her hair looked darker, and there was something about the look in her face that made his brows knit. It seemed like she got that look when she was thinking about things. He’d have to keep an eye on her. On top of that, he could see her nose was running. She sniffed. She’d been coughing and sneezing on and off for a while now. Another thing to keep an eye on. 

She caught on quick enough to the food he’d let aside for her. He and Raditz had fought over the bulk of the soup she had made, but he’d ensured there was enough left over for the woman. She had taken it and walked to her sofa to eat it without much of a word to either of them. But now they were about out of food, it seemed. At least as far as the two of them could scavenge, at least what was considered ‘out of food’ to a Saiyan. Humans could apparently sustain themselves on scraps for a lifetime. Their next stop would need to be somewhere they could stock up. What was the closest planet to here? He stroked his chin, all but ignoring Raditz’s complaints about being hungry still. There were a couple outposts. That planet with no light—It'd be a pain, but they could always go there. He wasn’t in the mood to go traveling days through space again. But the more they lingered together like this, the more uncomfortable he felt by Nappa’s lack of presence. The bastard deserved to die, after all he’d done in his life. To Bulma and himself, probably Raditz to some extent, judging by his lack of a reaction toward his death. But that didn’t make it less odd, to have him missing. He had been with him for nearly his entire life. It was as if he were missing a limb. 

No matter how diseased, maggot-filled, and rotting a limb was, it still left you feeling unnerved after its amputation. His eyes turned up to Raditz, who was searching through the cabinets again. Did he feel the same? This wasn’t the thing Saiyans would discuss to each other. He wouldn’t deign to ask such a stupid question to the man. But the thought still lingered. 

He jerked his hand out and grabbed the new packet of ramen Raditz just proudly produced from the cabinet. Just as quickly as he’d swallowed the first, he chewed and swallowed this one. Raditz stared back at him with a tenseness in his neck. Vegeta’s brow rose gently. The other Saiyan opened his mouth, and closed it, and opened it again. 

“I’m going to go hunting,” Raditz declared, before letting himself out of the pod house altogether. 

“Is that punishment?” Bulma asked once he was gone. She hadn’t turned to look at him, instead keeping her eyes on some stupid show on her television. “I thought you might kill him, too. Why didn’t you?” 

He grunted. Who was she, to ask questions like that? _It_ _wasn’t_ _the thing_ _Saiyans_ _discussed with each other_. And Hell if Vegeta knew. If the man was stupid enough to blindly follow Nappa into being a traitor, what would stop him from it in the future? He scowled. 

“I did it because it was Nappa’s plan, not his. He’s a moron. Don’t ask me a stupid question like that again.” 

Her bowl made a ‘clink’ as she set it down on the table. The way she slouched back, he could tell without even seeing her eyes that she was rolling them. That damnable woman. Perhaps the real question he should be asking, is why he bothered to make her a Saiyan. 

* * *

**Her POV**

Of course Vegeta had to make everything so awkward, getting angry over a legitimate question. She wasn’t going to push her luck by asking again, but the question still lingered. Why would he? She’d noticed from the start that he’d seemed to focus specifically on the idea of killing Nappa. Like Raditz was never a possibility. Did he just not want to kill both of them? He couldn’t really believe that Raditz would never possibly backstab him, could he? Her lips pursed, but then the image of Nappa’s dead body floated back to the front of her mind. Of Vegeta, beating him shitless with his own limb. He was usually fairly fast with taking out his enemies. Even she had never seen Vegeta that vicious before. That merciless. 

She snuck a glance behind her again, somewhat relieved to see Vegeta wasn’t even looking her way anymore to catch her staring. But all the same-- 

“Stop staring at me.” 

She turned forward again. How the hell did he know? 

Regardless, she had the sneaking suspicion that this was the sort of topic she’d never be able to get out of him. Maybe it was for the best that she just drop the subject altogether. But after even just a few seconds of laying back against the couch, watching a dumb movie play out, she couldn’t help but run her mouth to fill the silent air. 

“Where are we going next?” 

“Do you ever shut up?” 

“Shouldn’t you know that by now? No. I’m an equal now, that’s what you said. I should be included in conversations like this. Where are we going next?” 

It took him a moment. “I haven’t decided,” he’d finally replied. Bulma raised a brow and craned her head over her shoulder to look at him over the back of the couch. “There’s multiple places we could go.” 

“How far away? We’re not going to spend forever in one of those pods again, are we?” 

He clicked his tongue, and even from where she was sitting, could see the tension rising in him. His veins bulged so easily. Or maybe everyone’s did, but Vegeta’s hairline just happened to be less forgiving about it. She turned more, and put her arms up atop the back of the sofa. She was waiting. It wasn’t long before Vegeta broke and finally continued. 

“Planetary travel takes a while, if you haven’t noticed by now. We’re in a planet that’s the fucking center of commerce. We’re either in the pods for days, or we settle for some shitty piece of crap planet for the time being.” She shifted her weight to get more comfortable and opened her mouth, but just as soon as she did, she could see Vegeta’s eyes widen in fury. A command without commanding, to tell her to shut up. And just on cue, the door flung open. Raditz, with a whole, dead... Something. 

* * *

**His POV**

So Raditz had actually brought something. Good timing. He had no further interest in talking to the woman. She was getting far too liberal with asking him whatever she felt. As Raditz passed by him to drop his kill onto the counter, Vegeta grabbed its leg and tore it off. He ripped his teeth into it and passed Bulma a look to watch her quietly seethe over the mess they were making. A much more preferable sight. No talking, just an angry expression and puffed out cheeks. It wouldn’t last long though, he knew. She was bound to open her mouth and start complaining. So, before the opportunity was given, he swallowed his food and sloppily wiped the blood on his face with his forearm. 

“Raditz. We’re going to Dark Star.” He leaned back against the counter, and passively watched as Bulma slunk down and her cheek lowered onto the back of the couch. She’d given up deciding to yell at them, it seemed. Good, exactly what he’d wanted. 

“Oh, that reminds me,” the long-haired Saiyan spoke through a mouthful of blood and flesh. “Nappa wanted to go there. We heard from some of the targets that there was some wanted guy over there. We were going to go get his head and--” 

_“You only now say this shit, you moron?”_

Raditz shrugged and shifted away, clearly scared of the possibility of getting beaten with his own arm like Nappa had. Vegeta blew a rough gust of air through his nose. Nappa had tried to overthrow him and get him killed. Bulma was giving him twenty questions. And now Raditz was conveniently forgetting to tell him important things. Was he going soft? Was Nappa right? Perhaps even the passing thought that he could just shrug off Raditz’s slight was attestation to that. He could feel his jaw pop as his teeth clenched together. 

In the blink of an eye, his hand was around Raditz’s throat. A mouthful of food Raditz swallowed pressed against his palm as it sunk down his throat. He wasn’t begging for his life, instead just frozen in fear. That was the sort of fear Vegeta had been missing lately. He was a Saiyan. A Saiyan! The Prince of all Saiyans! His hand tightened, and Raditz spit out a wheeze. 

“Listen to me, you oversized pee-brain. Nappa was cocky and thought I was getting weak. What happened to him? Remember this well, Raditz. You are on thin fucking ice. I could kill you any time I want. But I am keeping you alive. For now. Be grateful. So next time you have important goddamn information, you spit it the fuck out immediately. Is there anything else I should fucking know about?” 

He shook his head quickly, and Vegeta’s hand released. He grunted in response to the immediate coughing fit the other went through, and reached over the counter to grab the other leg from Raditz’s meal. Bulma was no longer facing his way. She’d curled up on the couch, her head hanging. 

It was an all too familiar tension that hung in the air, but somehow it still left him feeling... His brows furrowed. Feeling what? That feeling that Bulma gave him all too often, when he acted like himself. Guilt...? Guilt. What a stupid idea. Guilt, for being a goddamn Saiyan. He tore off another strip of flesh from the leg, and pointed the other leg he held at Bulma. And on top of that, she sneezed again. 

“You. We’re staying here the night, I’ve decided. I’ll find the stupid pod and bring it here. We’ll leave after getting rest today. Don’t do anything stupid.” 

She had turned her head up at him when he spoke, and that clench in his gut came back. Why did she so often have that look in her face? And why did that look in her face bother him so much sometimes? He grunted and, much like Raditz had done not too long before, went straight out the door. 

* * *

**Her POV**

The door slammed shut for the second time that day, and Bulma turned around then to face Raditz, who was grasping his throat and rubbing it softly. They exchanged glances. She was one of them now, and he didn’t seem to have a problem with it. He hadn’t, at least, made any comments or remarks, and whatever ritual she’d gone through, he’d participated in. Was it out of fear of what Vegeta would do to him? She could still feel her skin crawl when she looked at him, but he was never quite as dangerous as Nappa. She might have prodded Vegeta, but if she thought about it, it did make sense that he put all the blame for their near-death on Nappa. How many times had it been Nappa to convince Raditz to go along with doing awful things to her? 

Not that he ever needed that much convincing. 

“What are you staring at?” He finally coughed out. 

“...Are you... Okay?” 

He got quiet again. It was weird for all of them, it seemed. No more Nappa, and now Vegeta had decided she was a Saiyan. 

“I’m fine. Mind your own business,” He huffed after a moment of silence. After rubbing his throat for a moment longer, he went back to eating the meat on the carcass that Vegeta had so graciously not stolen from him. 

The thought crossed her mind that she could go follow Vegeta. She had to have a plane in one of her pods or something. But maybe it was for the best that he be left alone. Hadn’t they already had enough of each other with the time they spent on that underdeveloped planet? And besides—The last moments they spent on there... Her hand traveled down to her arm, where her implant had been before it was removed. She’d been raped multiple times without it in the past, and there were times she got frisky with Yamcha without thinking about birth control. She was in her thirties and the chances of a single bout of unprotected sex causing a pregnancy was slim, but it was best not to play with fire. Giving him time to cool off was the smarter decision. 

“...Nappa didn’t seem like he was that close to Vegeta.” 

“What?” 

“Just making an observation,” Bulma elaborated. “It feels weird that he got so--” 

“Our planet was destroyed when Nappa was an adult but me and Vegeta were kids. We got lucky even coming across Nappa, we were mostly just wandering around from planet to planet figuring out what to do.” Bulma hadn’t expected him to say anything at all, but the clarification was a welcome one. He’d raised them, then? “So, he was like your father?” 

“Saiyans don’t have fathers, you’d better learn that with how you are one now. We still fuck and reproduce and all that shit, but there’s none of that raising crap you see with other species. As soon as a baby is old enough to fight, it gets sent out to destroy planets, and then goes back to our planet. Older Saiyans are just there for... Guidance and shit. That’s all.” 

Huh. 

“So, what was Nappa, to you?” She was surprised Raditz was going along this much with her questions. He furrowed his brows at her, but replied nonetheless. 

“He taught us what being a Saiyan meant. About being weak or strong. About rituals and other shit about our culture.” 

As much as he tried to deny it, Bulma couldn’t help but think that sounded an awful lot like a father. Maybe there was nuance she didn’t understand. But it clicked, why Vegeta had lost his mind, why even Raditz had seemed so serious. 

“I wonder what Vegeta’s doing now,” she mused, turning her attention to the closed door again. She had a feeling she wouldn’t see him until they were ready to leave. 

* * *

**His POV**

He had just thought that he had to keep an eye on the woman with that look she had on her face, and now he was out in the purple mists of this barren swamp planet, acting like a damned child. It only frustrated him further, and Kami knew if either of those morons had even noticed the ki blast he’d thrown at what was left of Vegeta’s body as he left to go find the pod. He couldn’t stand to look at the corpse a second time, and it wasn’t as if the massive lug of a man deserved anything but for a completely desecration of his remains. 

Finding the pod again wasn’t too hard. It was mostly a straight shot from where Raditz and Nappa had made camp. But as he reached it and picked it up, something occurred to him. Bulma had been so insistent on building her own chair inside it, rather than just sitting on his lap. 

They had three pods now, and three Saiyans. 

He detested the idea of giving her that much space, to some degree. She could do something stupid. But then again, she had willingly decided to come with them. She was one of them now. A Saiyan. He scowled out into the vast swamp, shifting the pod on his shoulder. She’d already essentially made this pod her own, and he supposed he could use some more leg space. He lifted off. She’d probably be happy to hear it. Maybe it would get that look off her face, and stop his stomach from cramping at the sight of it. 

He reached the camp again and dropped the pod off with a splat as it landed in the mud. But he’d be damned if he would actually bother to walk into the pod again, and listen to her insistent questions, or deal further with Raditz. From where he was, he could feel both their ki. He didn't need anything else to know Bulma wasn’t pulling anything stupid, at least for now. 

Instead, he turned his attention to the largest of the pods. The one that he decided was to be his. The one that had belonged to the big lug that was nothing more than ash on the ground and some leftover blood on Vegeta’s suit. He opened the pod’s door and dropped in, spreading his limps out over the large chair and getting comfortable. 

It smelled like him. Not faintly; he had the worst hygiene out of the three of them and sweated the most. It was a hellish smell that could make weaker beings gag, but all the same, Vegeta felt a creeping sense of nostalgia. It was the same stupid, disgusting smell he’d grown up with since he was a child, after all. 

There was a time where Vegeta was weaker than Nappa. Where Nappa had taken them under his wing and taught them what being a Saiyan meant, often by force, proving how much stronger he was than them by overpowering them and doing whatever he wanted to them. Until they could hold their own. Raditz never quite reached a point of being stronger than Nappa, he’d been lucky in a few fights. But Vegeta had become leagues stronger. He still remembered the first day he won against Nappa. As a teenager. Nappa had laughed. Like it was a game. Like it was funny, that Vegeta had finally overpowered him and stopped him from doing whatever the hell he wanted to him like he was a little whore rather than a Saiyan prince. 

Nappa wasn’t laughing when Vegeta beat him this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter. I really need to get into the habit or writing a page every day, or else it becomes hard to keep up. I forget sometimes, orz. And I've also been super into Umbrella Academy, so my mind has really wandered. Check the show out, if you have a chance. It's really good. 
> 
> Also, special shoutout to Diana Belén Vera Hernández, who's been translating this fanfic starting from Captive into Spanish. If you're reading this you probably don't need the translation, but I just wanted to share nonetheless because it's awesome.  
> If you know anyone who needs a Spanish translation, here's a link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13685956/1/Cautiva


	15. Quick life update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life update. Next chapter will come next week.

Hi! I just wanted to make you all aware that there won't be a chapter today. It'll come next week. I'm sorry about this, but life got super hectic this week. My computer's battery started swelling so I needed a new computer very suddenly, and I've also been back at the office (but will be back working from home again after Wednesday). Sorry, I just don't want to put out a very rushed chapter.  
This update will be deleted and replaced with the new chapter next Sunday. :)


	16. Planet of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma, Vegeta, and Raditz travel to their next planet.

Her POV 

As expected, Vegeta didn’t come back. At least, not back inside the pod house. Raditz, however, made himself plenty comfortable later into the day on her couch, and even when she put herself to bed later in the night, she could still hear the television going as he watched any number of movies she had. And not passively watching, either; he was audibly laughing, crying, and gasping along with the movie. Loud enough for her to hear through a door. It really was never a wonder why Vegeta let Raditz off the hook. Goku was not just a product of his environment; there was clearly something similar in their genes, with how goofy the long-haired Saiyan could be. As violent and bloodthirsty as he was, it still wasn’t hard to imagine he and Goku were really related. 

It took some time with the extra noise, but she eventually fell asleep. And even when she awoke—rested enough that it surely had to have been something around eight hours—she could still hear the looping of a movie’s menu screen. Raditz had clearly fallen asleep watching a movie. Her head throbbed, and as she got up and pulled herself to the side of the bed, a violent shiver ran down her body. Whatever sickness had been slowly widdling at her for some time now had come back full force. Of course something like that was bound to happen, being bathed in some disgusting freak’s blood like she was. And who knew what was in the purple air around this planet. She was lucky enough to have a newer model of pod houses that provided regulation. 

She got up to her feet and got herself ready for the day, the same as usual, and quietly blessing herself that she still had access to some basic necessities like running water, clean clothing, and makeup. The makeup especially- She could tell how clammy her skin looked this morning. A perfect match to her dimmer hair. She looked half a zombie compared to her usual saturated self. Once she’d brought herself as much up to par as she could, she left her room to find, none to her surprise, Raditz. Sprawled out on the ground beside the sofa from rolling around too much in his sleep, still covered in the blood of whatever disgusting animal it was he ate. And as soon as she saw the mess of it he made in the kitchen, she debated if the pod house should be entirely to herself. Why the hell should that monkey be allowed in here? She’d give him a swift kick in the balls, if she had the strength. But with her pounding headache, she let it pass. For now. Vegeta would be plenty eager to yell at him to get his ass in gear once he decided it was time to leave. 

Speaking of Vegeta, did he ever return? She knew all too well that chances were, he was sitting outside and just being stubborn about actually coming into the pod house. But curiosity got the best of her, and she went to go check. She was right on the money. Snoring away in the biggest of the pods, taking full advantage of the space that Nappa used to look crammed into. ...Three pods, now. And Vegeta had laid claim. They’d probably be abandoning Vegeta’s old one, then, out of safety. She wrinkled her nose at that, remembering the time she’d spent working on the damn thing. How eager she’d been to have her own chair. At least she’d have some more personal space. She wouldn’t have to sit at Vegeta’s feet or on his lap. Maybe she could even stretch her legs a bit. 

She shook her head as she came to terms with the situation, shut the door, and turned around to figure out what she could muster up for breakfast in lieu of the mess Nappa had made, and the food that the two Saiyans had undoubtedly devoured. 

* * *

His POV 

The woman checked on him. It’d be foolish, to fall asleep completely on a strange planet like this if he could help it. And beyond that, his leg was bothering him worse than before. He wouldn’t admit it, but it was making sleeping difficult. The woman would bitch him out nonstop if she knew that he’d undoubtedly fucked his leg up further by acting as if it were entirely healed and getting into a fight like he had. His hand ran over his thigh, and his thumb massaged into his skin. Goddamn it. While they were at their next planet, he might as well find somewhere that offered rejuvenation chambers. It took far less time than the damn creams for such extreme injuries. 

He grunted, and debated succumbing further to sleep, but it became impossible when the smell of the woman’s cooking hit his nose. Eggs. He got up, doing his best to hide the limp in his step as he went straight for the door and entered as if it were his own home. Where Raditz was already hovering nearby, looking as if he were trying to form the words to ask for a plate while Bulma continued to not acknowledge his presence. If there was one thing to make of their situation, it seemed he could finally actually trust Raditz around Bulma. He hadn’t made a move all night. Something that would have been impossible with Nappa. The man, even if spared, would have taken every other opportunity to do something that’d make Vegeta want to kill him all over again. The brute had needed to die. 

“Woman.” She glanced in his direction. What was with that death glare? Not the typical angry look she used to give him, the one filled deeply with malice. But not the playful pout, either. She looked half-dead, with that stare. And then she sneezed into her elbow. 

Ah. Sick. 

He wasn’t sure how she did it, but she didn’t have the skin of someone sick. No bags under her eyes or clamminess, from what he could tell. Then again, her ki was weaker than usual. He looked her up and down, before giving Raditz a rough shove. 

“We’re hunting for breakfast,” he commanded, as much as his nose protested. A couple Earthling eggs wouldn’t fill him up, anyway. He’d just make both himself and Bulma unsatisfied. Raditz’s face pinched in irritation, but he knew better than to argue. He gave another glance toward the blue woman, who had since gone back to focusing on her food. She was rubbing her temple. Hn. 

“We’re going when we’re done eating.” 

And just as quickly and loudly as he’d entered the home, he left it, Raditz following quick behind. 

* * *

Her POV 

Her peace and quiet only lasted so long. Vegeta and Raditz both showed back up at the pod in under twenty minutes, blood peppering their chins from their prey. They stunk, and it made her feel nauseous, like she was back to being covered in Nappa’s blood again. 

“Woman,” he snapped. She frowned, and for a moment, they shared a glance. His jaw rocked, and when he continued, his voice was still rough, but not quite as rough as he was initially. “Woman. We’re leaving. Get rid of this thing and get in your pod.” Her pod, he said. Not their, not the, not a. 

“My pod--” 

“The one you fixed. We have three Saiyans and three pods. Hurry up.” He turned and left, leaving the door wide open behind him as he walked toward Nappa’s pod. She shared a look with Raditz, who gave her an exaggerated shrug before turning and heading off to his own pod. If she didn’t feel so exhausted from whatever sickness she had, she may have been more excited. As it stood, her head was throbbing too much to care about much of anything. She’d at least managed to finish her dinner in the time it took them to find and eat theirs. She followed them out, pressed the button on the side of the house to turn it back into a pod, stored it in her pocket, and again looked toward the others. Raditz had gotten into his pod and closed it, while Vegeta was sitting in Nappa’s and staring right at her. 

“You know the pods well enough to use them properly, is that right?” 

“Huh? Well—Yeah, I made the thing.” 

“Just don’t get lost. Make it just follow the coordinates of our pods.” His pod’s door steamed closed and hummed as it sealed. She let out a huff. At least she’d have a good amount of time to herself. When was the last time she’d really been alone, without the immediate thread of danger? She made her way to the pod she’d made for herself and fixed herself into one of the two chairs. The door closed, and after typing into the control panel and buckling herself in, she was on her way with—With her teammates, she supposed. And Nappa was left behind. 

It was strange, being alone like this. Any time she’d been alone before, she was running out into danger after another one of her... Her episodes. She’d always gotten herself into trouble. But there was no trouble for her to get into here. She had enough confidence in her own abilities that she was sure the pod wouldn’t fall apart. She was alone, and safe. And all it did was make her feel uncomfortable. 

She glanced at the empty chair beside her. She didn’t necessarily miss his presence. But the same as when they were on that planet together, she found herself wanting him there all the same. Just... To be there. To have someone strong beside her. Giving her fleeting feelings of what it had been like when everything was fine and when she was still dating Yamcha and she wasn’t constantly paralyzed with fear over all the things in the universe that were immeasurably stronger than her. When she didn’t feel completely alone in the world, neither human nor Saiyan, as much as Vegeta and Raditz seemed to believe otherwise, now. 

She felt a tickle in her throat, and with it came a forceful cough. Her body heaved again with another cough. And another. She grabbed her throat and massaged it, and when the coughing fit ended, she let out a whine and slunk back into her chair. 

* * *

His PoV 

He felt on edge, not having the woman in his pod. Whenever she wasn’t, she was always up to something. She was always getting herself into some kind of trouble. And some part of the back of his mind did doubt her abilities. The pod she had repaired had made it to this planet, but could it keep going on like this? He couldn’t hope to save her if the pod just fell apart in the midst of the vacuum of space. 

But if there was anything Bulma ever proved to Vegeta, it was that she was far too resourceful for her own good. He was being unreasonable, thinking anything would happen. And he’d just named her a Saiyan. She had to be treated like an equal, now. He promised her a long time ago that she was no longer a slave, and now she had to be treated like one of their own. He’d look a fool if he kept looking after her too much after that ritual, even if he doubted Raditz would ever pull anything like Nappa did. She had to prove herself at some point. 

It was best to try not to think about her. He laid back and stretched his limbs comfortably over the large pod, having mostly gotten used to the scent from sleeping in it all night. He tried instead to focus on the mission ahead. Get their credits. Have a day or two of relaxing, perhaps. The dark planet was something of a nuisance, but it wasn’t that bad. But its gravity was heavier than that of other planets they had gone to. His mind inevitably drifted again to the blue woman and her ocean-like eyes. What kind of problems would that cause? She was already sick. He rubbed his jaw, and grunted in annoyance when he heard it pop gently under the weight of his finger. That damn woman had managed to ensnare herself in absolutely every facet of his life. Even the throb in his leg was a reminder of her, how she’d saved him. 

As irritating as it was, it was hard to not think of the woman. She left her mark on the injury of his jaw. On the reminder he was alive. In smaller things, like how he knew she hated the smell of Nappa, that lingered in this pod. And the hard, deep expression she carried with her and mesmerized him every time he looked in her eyes. That damn blue woman, from that damn blue planet. 

His cheek sunk into one of his fists as he resigned himself to staring out the window at the stars that glimmered lightyears away. He wasn’t sure he liked this silence. Bulma would probably be chattering in his ear incessantly about something incredibly unimportant right about now. Talking because she just liked the sound of her own voice. At some point in time, he had liked peace and quiet and had hated when she talked. When she was in the room and doing all the talking, he often felt that he hated when she talked. And yet when she was gone, there felt like something was missing. It left him uneasy. The fingers of his free hand tapped on the console. Was she talking to herself right now? Watching some blasted movie? She’d done something with that pod to get it to have television signal. He couldn’t even see her pod from his window. Perhaps next time, she should lift off first. His brow twitched. 

Why was he thinking so much about this? 

His fingers tapped the console faster, more forcefully. 

He had to figure out something else to do other than sitting in this pod to his own thoughts. Even if it meant just requesting Bulma give him one more piece of herself to push into his life, by giving him some blasted thing to watch on these pod rides. 

* * *

Her POV 

She didn’t even realize when they reached the planet. There was no colorful orb floating in the distance. Just black, with stars peppering the sky. But eventually she realized there was a notable absence of stars in the middle of her vision, out the little pod window. And that absence of stars was getting bigger; there was something black that was hiding stars behind it. A planet. 

They had said it was a planet of darkness, didn’t they? 

She just expected it to not be so... All-encompassing dark. It was particularly disturbing once they’d broken the atmosphere of the planet. There was nothing to see at all. No gentle glows. Just blackness. The most light she could get were the blinking lights of the other two’s pods, and the glow of the buttons on her control panel. It didn’t help her in bracing for impact; she was caught by complete, unhappy surprise when she jostled in her buckled seat as the pod made contact with the planet’s surface. 

She sat still for a moment, squinting her eyes and hoping that perhaps it was just so hard to see because her eyes hadn’t adjusted yet. But it didn’t seem to get better. She could hear the faint sound of the others’ pods hissing open, but she couldn’t see any more than before. After a minute, a hand emerged from the thick fog of darkness to rap on her window. She couldn’t even see past the wrist. For a moment she had second thoughts, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out it had to be Vegeta, even through a pounding headache. 

Her own pod’s door hissed open, and as soon as it released her into the world’s atmosphere, she felt... Heavy. Whatever gravity the pod had been protecting her from hit her all at once, and the movement she’d made to unbuckle herself was foiled. Instead she sunk backward, deep into her chair, and even lifting her arm seemed more than impossible. 

She couldn’t see Vegeta’s face, especially as the control panel’s glow faded into darkness, but he certainly grunted in irritation. Something rustled with her seatbelt to set her loose, and then ghostly arms picked her up and forced her up against a warm body. 

“I forgot an Earthling wouldn’t be used to gravity like this,” he grunted in annoyance. Somewhere, Raditz snorted. “Planet Vegeta was worse than this. You’d better get used to it, we won’t always go to planets with light gravity.” How the hell was she supposed to reply to that? She couldn’t help what her biology was used to. 

“I’m not a Saiyan, you can’t expect--” 

“You are now,” Vegeta said as a ki ball grew in the palm of his free hand, his other still holding onto her. His face came into view. Dismissive, only passing a single glance at her. “Shut up. The people here eat light. I don’t want anything attracted to us before we reach the damn main town. Raditz, follow.” Bulma half-expected them to launch into the air, but they didn’t. Instead they walked, only fast enough that Vegeta could still see where he was going, never so fast he might ram face-first into anything. If there was anything to even run into; it was dark enough she couldn’t tell. Vegeta and Raditz spoke like they’d been to this planet before, so perhaps they knew, but as far as Bulma could see, it was nothing but a flat, dark surface. Even with the ki Vegeta gave off, she could only see a few feet in front of herself. She couldn’t help but wonder if they had better vision than her, but it couldn’t be all that much better if that were true. Perhaps they could see farther, but it was clear they didn’t have night vision. When she glanced back at Vegeta again, she could see him squinting. 

* * *

His POV 

He hated this blasted planet the last time he was here, and he hated this blasted planet now—Especially, given he had to deal with Bulma now. A Saiyan, sure, but she was bound to fuck something up sooner or later on this planet. And, worse yet, she was sick. He’d nearly forgotten it, until she sneezed onto his chest. Great. He growled lowly, and when she murmured a ‘sorry,’ he blew a puff of air out his nose in response. 

“Listen,” he growled quietly at her. “People here eat light. As you can damn tell, it’s not in strong supply. People get violent over it. Don’t wander off when we get to the city.” 

“...How am I going to wander off?” Of course she wouldn’t just heed his advice. She always had to speak back to him. He rolled his eyes as they walked, though he took note of how nasally her voice had become from whatever ailment she had. “It’s pure black. There’s nowhere to go. I’m not wandering off like this.” 

“Shut up, woman. Quiet. You’ll see.” That’s all he retorted with. He knew that she wouldn’t let that slide, though. He turned his eyes and scowled at her, just in time to see her mouth open as if she were about to say something else. She saw the look he gave her and quickly shut her mouth. Good. Perhaps any other day he might at least let her jabber on, but he didn’t have the time or the patience to try and explain to her why it was important that she just take his word this time. The only real consequence for the look was that she was holding onto him tighter. As if he hadn’t been uncomfortable enough with her recently. He let that one pass. 

What he couldn’t really help, however, was her sniffling and her sneezing. It was only once every while, but not only was he welcomed with the germs of it, but he had to be extra aware of anyone nearby that might have been alerted by the sneezing and noticed the faint glow of the ki ball in his hand. So far they’d been safe. He hadn’t felt any ki. Every once in a while, he felt something, but nothing strong, and clearly things that decided that he and Raditz were not worth an altercation. The small amount of light helped that. Who would bother for what basically amounts to a tiny snack? But then he could feel something larger somewhere further on, past what little light was afforded to them. He wasn’t in the mood to fight, not like this. It’d just attract more attention, anyway. He snuffed out his ki blast, and with a wave of his arm, gave Raditz a whack on the bicep to let him know he was nearby. He could feel they were going in the right direction regardless. Straight forward, and once they were close enough, there would be a faint glow to light their way. 

It didn’t make the darkness any less hard to sift through. His vision constantly imagined faces in the shadows and curves of the black; the corner of his vision dared him to look at what might be a light source. After only five minutes walking like that, he let out another grunt. 

“I can’t believe anyone lives in this shithole.” 

Raditz let out an all too loud laugh. Though with no source of light, he supposed it didn’t matter. And it didn’t matter when Bulma sneezed right into his ear again, either. He grimaced at that, swearing he could feel the spit inside his damn ear canal. Shortly after was a coughing fit, one that she stopped walking for. He spent no time at all lifting her just enough off the floor that her legs didn’t drag as he continued to walk. Perhaps the lack of light would lead him to walk into something, and maybe she’d get a scratch as a punishment for this obnoxious-- … He was not even able to finish his thoughts before she was sneezing again. 

And just when he felt he was going to be driven insane, he could see it. A faint cyan glow on the horizon. 

“Goddamn it. Finally,” Raditz grumbled, taking the words right from Vegeta’s mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me tell you, it's hard to remember to do a page a day lmao. I was really thrown off last week because I had to get a new laptop, but in general it's difficult to remember writing, ahaha. It was on a regular schedule for so long because there was so much existing content.  
> I'll be keeping up this schedule, of course. If I don't I'll probably forget to update at all!! And I do want to get this series finished. It means a lot to me. Thank you all for continuing to be patient with me.


	17. Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma, Raditz, and Vegeta have reached the port in the new planet they've landed on.

Her POV

She wasn’t sure what Raditz meant, when he grumbled ‘finally.’ She squinted in their direction, but as far as she could tell, there was still just murky darkness. It was only until a minute or so later of walking that she realized there was a faint glow on the horizon. Just barely visible to her eye. She gave another glance  at Vegeta , who seemed to still be able to see her even though they’d been plunged into near-complete darkness again other than the faint glow. He grumbled quietly that she’d better not sneeze on him again. She relented and went back to staring at the horizon, feeling the tickle of a potential sneeze.

The light took color. It was a light blue tint, like Earth’s sky. She squinted to get a better look, and her eyes throbbed in response, begging her to get off this hellish planet and its irritatingly strong gravity. She wouldn’t have minded being in that pod longer if it meant just going to a planet that didn’t feel like it was trying to kill her. Why were there so many planets out there, trying to kill her? They all had either super intense gravity, acid rain, or just things that were all too eager to kill or rape her. She would have liked to rub her neck that ached so horribly from even the slight head movements she’d been making, but she wasn’t even able to lift her hand.

“Can’t you guys fly or something? We’re so close. My head hurts,” she whined, stopped short of anything else as she let out a cough. Vegeta grumbled something under his breath. Whether it was about her being a weak human or just how sick she was, was anyone’s guess. But her pleads had, at the very least, worked. She felt a breeze on her face as Vegeta lifted off, and the faint glow became brighter and closer much faster than it had before. Not that it would help her with this goddamn gravity situation, but if she were lucky maybe they’d be in and out. But until then, she just held onto Vegeta tight and did her best to at least enjoy the ride. The breeze in her hair did lessen her headache what little it could. And the way Vegeta held her gave her that same feeling on that lonely planet, where she’d found solace from a panic attack in his arms. As rough as he could be, as uncaring as he acted, he could hold her so gently when he wanted to. Even as she dangled so uselessly, he still held her without the slightest sense of the irritation his grumbles suggested were there. It was always funny, to think of how someone that had done such horrible things to her could bring her comfort so easily. So stupid. She was barely even human. Maybe this was just how the brains of  Saiyans worked? Maybe she really was a Saiyan.

As they came closer to the light, she found that her vision was blurred from the intense gravity. It hadn’t been  noticable before when there wasn’t anything to look at but vague hints of light. But as they arrived and were faced with some sort of structure,  Bulma found herself unable to make out any details other than the fact that blue lights along the floor lit her vision and drove away complete blackness. Though the pleasant wind that eased her pain never stopped, she’d notice-d even though they had stopped flying. Vegeta must have noticed the squint she had as she tried to focus her vision; he grumbled to Raditz about getting a gravity-controlled hotel room. 

Thank Kami that was a thing.

* * *

His POV

Took long enough. He was getting tired of groping around in the dark. He wasn’t sure why this planet hadn’t just begun to import light from other places, or rid themselves of any hungry alien venturing around in the dark. They may argue that there wasn’t enough light to go around, but there were fixes for that. Maybe those in power on this planet just didn’t have the stomach for the level of violence that killing most of the planet’s inhabitants would require. He grimaced at the thought of that, still feeling somewhat drunk on the memory of Nappa’s blood, mixed with black mud, staining his hands. 

This planet had a very important resource—Its energy. The planet was warmed by a geothermal source just under the surface that most of the planet fed off of. It only appeared out of the surface in a select few hotspots. They let off blue light between bits of rock, and a gentle wind with it. Maybe once in this planet’s lifetime, it was the equivalent to an oasis in a desert, but the hotspots had since all been colonized by a select few and used as ports. 

He shifted  Bulma’s weight against his side and took a glance toward Raditz again as they walked into the entrance of the port. Two guards about twice their size but undoubtedly a quarter of their strength let them pass. Clearly, they existed purely to keep out the people that roamed the planet for food. He’d seen as much last time, when there’d been something of a riot that went on and they had used  ki guns to mow down those who approached.

He wouldn’t ever be able to understand this alien squabble. He’d be disgusted at himself to be in their situation- starving, but too weak and pathetic to do anything about it. He glanced down briefly at  Bulma at that thought. Even the weak had strengths they could pull from. Even someone like her would not be starving for long. He had no pity for the aliens that were left starving.

It did not take long to find a hotel, its sign lit by the lights along the ground. They were smart in building them close to the entrance of these city-ports. It was much like the sleek, modern designs elsewhere in the galaxy. A testament to how much this strange planet had been colonized by foreign invaders.

“Give me a room that has gravity control,” he spat before even reaching the desk. The green-skinned little alien woman nodded without a word, grabbing a keycard and handing it over in a single panicked motion. It was nice, when they didn’t argue. Raditz was the one to produce the money for the room, but did not follow immediately when Vegeta grabbed the keycard and began to head to the elevator. Instead, he leaned against the counter and gave her a coy smile. 

“I love the color green.”

“Don’t waste too much time, moron,” Vegeta called to him as he reached the elevator. And just his luck, that’s when  Bulma sneezed on his face again. Goddamn it.

* * *

Her POV

Bulma was at the mercy of Vegeta’s whim, the longer they went on in this planet. She still couldn’t help herself from coughing and sneezing, but she wasn’t able to make out much of what was going on around her. It seemed the more she tried to focus, the  more blurry her vision became. Worse yet, she was finding it increasingly harder to do things as simple as moving her head slightly. What energy she had in the pod had been wasted, it seemed, as they had traveled to this—What was it? A city? There were enough noises that she might guess so, but she found that even noises seemed garbled. She was essentially looking through a fishbowl. A dirty, algae-covered fishbowl. And just like a fish being tormented by a child tapping on its glass, she felt as though her head were going to burst the more she heard people speaking.

She was taken into a building, and then into what she could figure out was an elevator. Funny that, that elevators could work in a place like this. What were they made out of? The equipment had to be expensive. She sneezed once more time before the elevator was set in motion upward. What pressure her body had been under before paled in comparison to that. Sher groaned, and if it weren’t so difficult to do that much, she would have spoken more to tell Vegeta that she could swear her eyeballs would fall right out of her sockets if she didn’t keep her eyelids closed. 

It felt like they were in that elevator for ages. They must have been. And she swore, the moment the elevator finally stopped, that if she had been on that thing for a moment  longer she would have completely fallen to pieces, right in Vegeta’s arms. But thank Kami it hadn’t, and she hadn’t, and she could finally somewhat breathe again. She could feel Vegeta jostle her. He asked her if she was going to puke on him. It was hard to hear just about anything else, but he was right up in her ear and she could at least make out that much. Sorry for him, she couldn’t move her head to tell him the answer was no. She doubted the contents of her stomach could defy gravity and make it up her esophagus. She doubted she could even have the muscular strength for her body to even attempt to puke. 

She was brought into another room, and dropped onto a bed—a guess  Bulma made purely on how soft it felt. She lay how she ended up dropping, her legs crossed awkwardly and her arms splayed, flat on her back. There was no moving from that. 

So what?

Was he just leaving her there?

She could hear a buzzing in her ear, like air conditioning kicking in. Rather than worry about her eyes falling out, she was now beginning to worry that they might just fall deeper into her head until they were merged with her brain. If her brain weren’t liquid.

All at once, she felt the weight come off her.

She sucked in her breath in a large, wheezed gulp. She would have gotten up then- She felt so light she swore she could fly. But her muscles were no less exhausted than they’d been three minutes ago, and the room spun from the whiplash that her brain had just gone through. Her eyes continued to throb, but at least this time it was a  _ r _ _ elieved _ throb.

“...How the hell am I supposed to get back to the pod? I’m not  gonna be stuck in this room, am I?” She wheezed out after a moment of catching her breath. The light under her eyelids darkened. She opened them to see Vegeta looming over the bed, staring down at her with a bemused gaze. Her brows furrowed at that. And in turn, she watched his brows twitch into a slight raise.

* * *

His POV

She bounced back so quickly to snapping at him, she could only have been being melodramatic before the gravity of the room was set to Earth’s level. There was no way that wheeze she took could have been serious. ...Then again, if she was truly being melodramatic, she probably would have complained and yelled the entire time. He rolled his jaw, letting it pop as he watched her start to rub her neck. He finally averted his eyes and stepped away to begin to search for the television remote,  deigning himself to answer her question.

“They have suits you can get around in,” he replied with a shrug. “Not here. I’ll go buy one. You’re annoying me with your sniffling and coughing and sneezing, you’re going to be seeing a doctor before we do anything else” On cue, his knee throbbed. That was something to be fixed, as well. He glanced over his shoulder at her for a brief moment. She was in the midst of pulling herself up, but with the coordination of a toddler. Her arm swung out to steady herself when she was halfway up, with a vigor that implied being a moment from falling to one’s death. She wasn’t even close to the end of the bed, much less anywhere she could fall to her death. Ridiculous woman. His eyes went back to searching the rest of the hotel room, finally landing on the remote that sat on a deep green leather armchair. He grabbed it and tossed it off to her just as quickly.

“Watch television or something. Don’t leave this room unless you want more of what you got a moment ago. I’m going to check on the moron downstairs, and we’ll go buy that shitty suit. Just don’t do anything fucking stupid.” 

“I’m not leaving this room if it means getting squashed like that again. Trust me,” she replied, rubbing the back of her neck for emphasis. He rolled his eyes. If there was one thing to say about the woman, she always seemed on the verge of wanting to kill herself until she was in a situation that provided the opportunity. Then suddenly she seemed to have a will to live. He’d been worried about her not too long ago with the look in her eyes she’d had only just before they left, and now here she was, insisting she’d keep herself safe. 

"Good,” he muttered in reply, meaning it more authentically than it had come out. He didn’t bother in the least to correct himself, however. He simply went straight out the door without another look at her. Like hell he’d waste his time embarrassing himself into making her feel better, if she’d been so weak to be hurt by unintended sarcasm. 

He turned a corner and pressed the button for the elevator to return. Despite this being such a backwoods planet, the hotel apparently seemed busy enough that in the time it took for him to get  Bulma situated, someone had called it to another floor. 

Color him surprised when the elevator arrived, and the doors opened to reveal Raditz. Holding a shaking hotel clerk under his arm. They shared a glance. Raditz seemed so smug. So proud of himself, though there was a hint of pleading in his eyes, knowing it likely wasn’t good that Vegeta wasn’t just outright dismissing him. And yet he didn’t move a muscle to defend himself when Vegeta slapped him across the face, jerked the woman out from his side and into the hallway, and took a step into the elevator beside him.

“We’re going on a shopping trip,” Vegeta told him. 

“A shopping trip,” Raditz repeated incredulously, rubbing his cheek. Vegeta pressed the button on the elevator, and watched the woman wheeze a sigh of relief and stumble up to her feet as the doors closed.

“...Find a willing participant, next time,” Vegeta spoke up, without bothering to see what Raditz’s reaction was. “You know what  Bulma’s reaction would have been if you brought that woman up with you. Unless you would like to lose an eye, like Nappa did?”

“She-- Was just playing coy.”

“You’re a fucking moron.” 

He could hear the stutter in Raditz’s voice as he tried and failed to come up with a response. As if they hadn’t essentially been over this before. Hadn’t  Bulma already warned them? She was a Saiyan now; part of the team. If she was so serious about it that she’d cause him to lose a body part, it was best to listen. It wasn’t as if the moron was so  pathetic that he couldn’t possibly find a willing participant. And if he couldn’t. Well. That was Raditz’s problem.

The elevator squeaked open, and Vegeta took another step out without so much as glancing in Raditz’s direction, only confirming he was following by the heavy footsteps behind him. Heavier than usual, perhaps. Was he stupid enough to think nothing would change, after Nappa was killed and  Bulma was permitted to take the big lug’s spot? The tip of his tail twitched. Maybe he should start looking for a replacement for this one, too.

They stepped back out into the eerily lit blue streets, and only then did he bother to take a passing glance at the man. He didn’t seem too bothered, at least. It seemed whatever interest he had in the woman had just been a passing fascination, rather than something to get hung up over. Perhaps he wouldn’t end up like Nappa. He shook his head and continued out, passing what handful of aliens—none that seemed native to this planet. He recognized the species of little tentacled freak he saw slithering past, and of the big headed, small-bodied man with blue skin and yellow bug eyes passing them by quickly. Dressed in some stupid outfit. Ridiculous. Maybe he was the sort of person to be following. If the pathetic creature had any sense, he’d be going straight to the next clothing store. 


	18. Bloody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma's sneezes get worse.

Her PoV

She didn’t move from her spot in bed for a while. She felt dizzy if she laid down, but sitting upright was still dizzy enough that she dared not walk. Some few minutes after she was left to her own devices, she felt her nose running, wet and cold down her cupid’s bow. She wiped it casually with her fist, though the wetness was easily enough replaced as her nose continued to run. She knit her brows and glanced downward as if she could see her own nostrils, and just as she was reaching up to wipe her nose with her knuckle again, she saw the smear of blood on her hand. 

Oh.

With her clean hand she held the sheets for support, stumbling up onto her feet. Shit. Shit, shit. The copper taste lingered on her lips and as the line of wetness continued to roll down her face. She held her hand just below her chin to continue to collect it as it dripped. She stumbled around the room, half from dizziness and half from panic, throwing open a closet door before finally landing on the door that led to their bathroom. Damned spacious. There were two sinks, and a wall-long mirror. She wrinkled her nose just seeing her messy, complexion, complete with bloodshot eyes, and wrestled with the sink’s faucet to turn on the water.

And as she continued cleaning her face and letting the water run red, she took passing notice that this bathroom didn’t even have a toilet in it. At least, anything that she could recognize as one. Why did alien planets like this have to be so weird? She grumbled in annoyance and wiped her nose again and again. For a moment, she thought that it was finished and that she was no longer bleeding—Until she sneezed and a new gush of blood came running from her nose, forcing her to go back to letting it run down the drain. 

She settled for squeezing the bridge of her nose and breathing from her mouth as she leaned against the sink to wait it out. She glanced up at reflection yet again and, scowling at it. It seemed with every passing moment she was with Vegeta and Raditz, she somehow managed to get bloodier and bloodier. First with Nappa’s blood, and now with her own.  Of course it would. Why would she expect anything different? For a moment, she lingered on the idea that maybe it was an idiot’s idea to leave Earth. No one went to a therapist for a couple weeks and thought they were cured of all their problems. Not even  Bulma . She knew otherwise. But she also knew how perfectly hellish Earth felt after everything she’d gone through. Everyone acting normal. Everything seeming normal. No, she didn’t belong there anymore. No therapy could fix that. At least now she could get distracted by a million other things. Like the tickle in her nose, begging her to sneeze again so she could launch another gush of blood into the sink.

* * *

His POV

The little purple man with the big head, surprisingly, did lead them to a clothing shop. And rather quickly; he seemed to be on some kind of mission. Maybe to get out of that stupid excuse for armor he was wearing. Armor, that Vegeta had realized on second glance, was the uniform of the Galactic Patrol. It made him snort, knowing that’s how far down they had come, that they were now taking in complete buffoons like this weak little man. Sure, he might have a stronger  ki than  Bulma , but everyone had a stronger  ki than her. He was still pathetic in comparison to anyone in Vegeta’s league.

He at least didn’t seem interested in bothering him. Upon entering the store, he’d only gone to question the shopkeeper about something. Vegeta didn’t care to listen, instead opting to wind his way through the aisles in search of the gravity-controlled outfits he was looking for. Rows of clothes of all sorts of types, all clearly imported other than the occasional clothing that seemed to emit a faint cyan glow from its stitches. All useless. 

“Hey, Vegeta! Over here!”

It was Raditz that came to his rescue. He hadn’t paid much attention to what the big lug was doing once they’d entered the store, but he’d done him the service of finding exactly what he wanted. On the other side of the store, all lined up in a row. Various suits with attached switches on the arm to change the set gravity. The writing on the packaging insisted that it doubled as a wetsuit and included pressure control. Hn. That might come in handy, too, for all he knew. This woman seemed to be more fragile than an egg sometimes. He grabbed one at random, and gave Raditz a passing grunt in appreciation.

“She’s probably going to complain about it,” The long-haired man warned. Vegeta’s tail-tip twitched.

“She’s going to complain about everything,” he  gruffed back. Raditz threw his head back in a roaring laugh at that one, and for a moment sounded like Nappa once had. Vegeta couldn’t decide if that made him more or less annoyed. Regardless, he passed around Raditz to make his way back to the register and drop the packaging down with a hard thud. The thin, multi-tentacled cashier looked at them warily before he began to ring them up.

“ Ey , what happened to that little galactic patrolman?” Raditz questioned. The cashier gave them a  squirrlish glance. “He was pretty short, wasn’t he? Weak. Makes you wonder if they purposely hire weaklings for that job.”

“Why the fuck would they do that?” Vegeta asked incredulously, breaking his typical disregard of the other’s spoken thoughts. He threw down the money at the cashier and grabbed the package from the counter. 

“Sir, this isn’t the right--” Both  Saiyans locked eyes with the cashier as he spoke up about how much money Vegeta had given him. He shut up. 

“I  dunno ,” Raditz continued. The cashier was left in the dust as they left the store. “I mean,  Frieza existed at one point. There’s  gotta be more guys like him, that’d benefit from getting to do whatever they want without the international police.”

“Then they just wouldn’t have the damn international police,” Vegeta replied. Raditz’s lips scrunched and he looked upward.  Clearly he was debating something in that little brain of his. And after a minute of walking, Vegeta doing his best to remember the route they’d taken when following the patrolman, he spoke up yet again.

“If there was no galactic patrol, someone would want to create it eventually. If there is one, even if it’s a shitty one, no one’s  gonna bother to replace it.”

Vegeta turned his head to stare up at the long-haired man for a second, peering him up and down. It was a surprisingly coherent thought. Maybe he wasn’t so useless. Though Vegeta had not gone so soft that he’d bother to compliment Raditz like that. Instead, he faced forward again and kept walking.

* * *

Her POV

The bleeding had stopped even despite her sneezes, by the time Vegeta and Raditz returned. She was still leaning against the sink when she’d heard the door open.

“Augh! Walking right into gravity-controlled rooms always give me a headache,” Raditz whined. She straightened herself out and watched Vegeta’s head turn as he searched the room, before linking eyes with her beyond the open bathroom doors. His brows knit at first, then raised. Raditz’s gaze followed, and his brows raised wider, followed by a “Jeeze.”

“The hell happened?”

“After I got up my nose started bleeding,” she replied, turning on the bathroom sink again to start wiping off any of the leftover blood on her face. But as she looked at her reflection, she realized that her appearance was definitely frightening. Her eyes were more bloodshot than before, and she’d somehow not realized just how much blood had leaked down under her chin and stained her clothing. She’d bled more than she thought. And the sink—and even some of the mirror, thanks to a rather forceful sneeze earlier—was splattered with red.

Ah.

“Goddamn it,” Vegeta grumbled under his breath. He stepped onto the bathroom tile and dropped a  vacuum -sealed... Suit? The pictures on the front showed it being worn on some bipedal, two-armed alien, but the words written on it were more or less gibberish to her. She may have picked up some things from the common alien language, but this one was in an entirely different script. Hn.

“Put this on. It’s gravity control. You’re going to a damn doctor.” 

She washed her hands and wiped them on a nearby towel, and took the suit’s packaging. It was complete with diagrams; the suit was like a reverse wetsuit. Rather than inflating, it was over-sized and deflated to the size of the user. A happy, slim alien woman showed it off, pulling on a string behind her neck to have the suit reveal her figure. At least she wouldn’t feel frumpy, she supposed. It’d be a nuisance to have to walk around in some giant space outfit. 

The sound of Vegeta closing the door to give her privacy snapped her head up from the suit. And with that, she ripped it open, freeing the plastic-feeling costume from its package. She debated for a moment if it was meant to be worn with clothes underneath, but—Ah, well. Given her clothes were stained of blood, she stripped down and forced the thing over her. It was weighty and difficult to put on due to just how oversized it was. Even once she felt she had it on, the hole around her neck still hung, exposing most of her back. She grabbed at the loose material around her arms to fit her fingers into the gloves, and once at least that was done, she looked again toward the packaging on the box. She pulled at the material hanging at her shoulders to get to the back of her neck, and fiddled around before her fingers closed around the string that it showed the alien holding. With a quick pull, the costume slowly sucked at her skin and tightened around her. 

She looked at herself in the mirror, and found it reminiscent of a superhero costume. At least it wasn’t too—Well. She didn’t think it looked too gaudy. She liked the slight bit of cyan glitter that seemed to pepper the otherwise black suit, at least. It looked... Cute.

* * *

His POV

She came out of the bathroom with the suit. No matter what the woman wore, it always seemed to compliment that form of hers. As sick as she was, it didn’t make her curves any less appetizing. He let his eyes linger, until they were dragged upward to her face with another sudden sneeze. 

“Did you set it to the gravity of Earth?”

“I think so, yeah.”

He looked her up and down. Knowing her, she probably set it correctly. And he wasn’t going to bother wasting time double-checking and potentially having his face sneezed on again. 

“Fine. Come on, we’re getting you to a goddamn doctor.” Her huff was audible even as he left without looking back at her again. Only one pair of feet—soft enough to clearly be Bulma’s--followed, and Raditz called out after them.

“I’m tired of walking around everywhere! I’m doing fine, Gonna... Watch TV. Bye.”

It went unanswered; he wasn’t going to waste his time babysitting the man. He had more important things to attend to. Beyond  Bulma’s incessant cough and needing to double-check something hadn’t gone wrong with her being under intense gravity for an extended period of time, his leg still throbbed on and off constantly. 

He stepped into the elevator and leaned on his better leg, eyeing  Bulma as she joined him. She had deep bags under her eyes; had she noticed that? Was it from blood loss, or just the stress on her body?

“How are your scars?” She asked. “Your, uh, injuries. Your back was still pretty messed up, and your leg wasn’t even healed yet--”

_ “Fine,” _ he answered sharply. She frowned at him. What did she even care, when she was in the state she was? Maybe that was part of her problem, caring far too much about others. Such a human thought process.

...He was different, of course. He was using her as an excuse to get his leg checked out without having to worry about being thought of as weak. That was much different. His brows furrowed, and he took another glance at  Bulma and her tired, sunken eyes. He was different.

The elevator jingled and the doors slid open. He took his opportunity and escaped, trudging forward and expecting her to keep his pace.

* * *

Her POV

It had taken her a moment to actually will up the courage to pass the hotel door again. But when Vegeta just kept walking without even so much as glancing to see if she was following, she hurried to follow him to avoid being left behind, and it was no different when he left her so quickly as soon as the elevator opened. To her relief in both cases, there was no sudden vertigo, there was no collapse onto the ground from her muscles’ inability to stand gravity. And even despite the suit not having a helmet with it, her head was somehow even okay. She stared down at the control panel at her wrist. What the hell was this made out of? It could come in handy.

That optimism, however, slowly began to fade as they left the hotel. Vegeta insisted on keeping a fast pace, and  Bulma lagged behind, her mind suddenly feeling caught in a fog. This wasn’t like it had been; she could move against gravity just fine, but her muscle felt as though they were wading through thick mud. There was a tingle at the back of her nose that worked its way up, bubbling into a loud sneeze. She covered her mouth with two hands and her eyes opened in surprise just quick enough to see Vegeta finally turn to look at her from the twenty or so feet he’d made between them. Twenty feet that he was quickly closing in on.

He grabbed her arm and forced one of her hands away from her face. With the even miniscule amount of  support he provided her in just holding one limb, she realized all at once just how weak in the knees she’d become. She waved in the gentle breeze the city set off, wobbling as Vegeta spoke harshly to her.

“You’re bleeding again.”

“I- Huh?”

“Half your face is caked with blood.” She looked at her hand. It was true. Her head throbbed as she stared at the deep red that coated her palm. She all at once became all too aware of the sticky, heavy moisture under her nose. She heard Vegeta start grumbling swears, but not vividly enough to make out which specific ones. His words hit her ears like ripples of a voice under water. She squinted at him; what had once been a relatively clear visage seemed more like a silhouette through a thick fog. Was he saying something again?

“Huh?” She mumbled out again. His grip on her seemed stronger, and at the same time she felt it less than before, like it was a ghost holding onto her. 

And then the fog took over, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated Halloween! It was very fun for me. I got jack all done. I bought super big king-sized candy bars and left them outside my apartment, and when I came back from my sister's house, the tiny little girl next door left me a hand-made thank you letter with a cute little drawing of her family. ;o; I hope you guys had a happy Halloween, too!   
> Now, for my fellow Americans-- Let's try not to think of this upcoming week, yeah?


	19. Emergency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta takes Bulma to the hospital.

His POV

“ Bulma .” The blue woman’s eyes had fogged over at first, like she wasn’t all there- Like she was more of a doll than a person. As he called her name again, she went entirely limp. He grabbed her with his other hand to keep her close. What? The damn thing wasn’t that cheap, was there a hole in it? Was it faulty? No, she’d already been bleeding out the nose. The amount of time she’d been under intense gravity, especially in her already weakened state, was already—Goddamn it. He should have used his brain and kept her in the pod. He swore under his breath and searched the streets with a quick glance-over. 

He’d been planning to just walk around until he came across a hospital, but this was more of an emergency than before. He lifted into the air than waste his time walking, and after double-checking to make sure  Bulma was secure enough against his side, his hand at her head to keep it from whiplash, he zoomed off to scan the streets.

Hadn’t he just thought to himself that he didn’t care? That he was only looking for a hospital for himself? He found the mid-sized hospital fast enough, in the furthest south part of the enclosed city- It was beneficial that the architecture was so close to what the rest of the galaxy was used to. He kicked up dirt as his feet slid across the rock streets, ending his momentum ten or so feet from where he first made contact. He'd thought to himself that this was just an excuse for him, not five minutes ago. But his heart was beating in his ears when he lowered  Bulma’s head from his chest to check on her again. He couldn’t tell if there was more blood before, or if that was what had already been there. How much had she lost? She looked to be still breathing, at least. Her  ki was weak, but she was still alive. And yet, in the back of his mind, the question remained.

_ Why did he care? _

She wasn’t his property. She was his equal. She was a Saiyan. Those times he’d saved her before, she was his property, or his girl—But now he didn’t want to touch her again, other than when she’d come to him willingly herself. And yet here he still was. Why did his heart feel like it was seizing? His tail choked his waist as it tightened. He’d felt this way for a while- The same seizing of his heart occurred when he found her near hypothermia at that damn snow planet, and a million times before since. Every time this stupid woman insisted on trying to get herself killed. 

No, there wasn’t time to care about something stupid like this. To dwell on his feelings. He charged forward into the hospital, and for once didn’t need to intimidate- the state  Bulma herself was in was enough to whip the aliens into shape. The relative quietness of this port ensured her being taken from his hands all but immediately. Even when she was taken away behind a closed door to be looked at, he still felt the weight of her body, light as it was, in his arms. Her smell lingered. That stupid woman, she’d made it this far—He'd made her a Saiyan, just like them. She was a survivor. She would get through this. If she didn’t, then she was never worth caring about. 

His heart burned. The foreign feeling left him snapping his hand up to grip his chest instinctively. 

He wasn’t going to leave her.

A tiny nurse leaned over a counter to ask him to stop and wait in the waiting room, that he wasn’t allowed further, but it was buzzing in his ears as he paced to follow the path of the doctors that had taken  Bulma away. 

“Sir!” 

He wasn’t sure where in the line of rooms in the long hallway they’d taken her, but he recognized the face of a doctor. He caught the mantis-like man like a deer in headlights, and caught him seconds later with his hand to his neck against the wall.

“Sir-- I—Germ—It’s unsanitary--- The wa- waiting room--”

“Where is she?” His grip tightened. The man did not waste his time again.

“Room 148. Right down the hall.”

The man’s wheeze reached his ears as he let the man’s throat go, and before he could say another word, he was halfway through the hall.

  1. 134\. 136. He stormed through the hall, checking room number after room number until his eyes landed on The One. 148. He could hear another nurse calling to him again to stop, but that didn’t stop him from forcing open the door.



Three large mantis-like aliens snapped their heads in his direction, having halted from placing his woman into a vat of healing water. He supposed he should be thankful this place wasn’t so run down and apart from the rest of the galaxy that it didn’t have up-to-date technology. He had been hoping they had something like this. 

“Sir! Sir, you should go back into the waiting room--” The words faded on the tongue of the more lime-green of the doctors as Vegeta’s tail twitched. His jaw popped in his ear as it tightened. The aliens exchanged looks, and went back to helping Bulma, still wearing that useless suit, into the vat. 

“Take... Take a seat, sir,” one added. Instead, Vegeta leaned himself against the wall, lest these beings think he cared about what they demanded he do. As long as he could see her and ensure she was safe, he was satisfied. She was still knocked out, but as long as she was being treated, she’d be fine in the end. Even in that crude, weak human body of hers. She’d survived worse. She’d survive a nosebleed.

The unusual ache in his chest had lessened, but still remained. Faint, but still twisting his insides, forcing him to so carefully search  Bulma’s features for a hint of life. To see that any moment, she’d open her eyes. Her cheeks looked  more flush as the water hit her, and the way her hair, still tinted a less saturated color from Nappa’s blood, squirmed and danced around her face made her look more alive, despite how sick she seemed with the oxygen mouthpiece strapped to her head. He could swear she saw her brow raise gently, but perhaps it was his mind playing tricks on him. 

If she were truly dead, they wouldn’t be putting her in there, at least. She was alive. Just... Passed out. How much blood had she even lost? They’d cleaned her up in the time it took for him to find her, he realized. Was it less than it originally seemed? He felt her ki, but it felt—off. Not like it usually was. How long had it been like that?

They let go of her. She floated gracefully, bubbles swirling around her as they locked up the vat. The most lime-colored one stepped down from the top of the vat to type some things into the computer attached to the vat, and then turned to Vegeta. Before the thing even opened his mouth, he could tell it was worried about saying anything at all to him. Feh. Weakling.

“Sir, ah, what was happening before she began to bleed?”

“She had been sick for a while. Days. Perhaps a couple weeks? On and off. Her body isn’t suited to the gravity on the planet and it must have made her sickness worse. I got her that damn suit but she started getting nosebleeds when sneezing.”

“Ah. A couple of weeks, sick? What planet is she from?”

“Earth. Some little piece of shit planet. Doesn’t have a port. You wouldn’t know it.” He stopped bothering to look at the man, instead focusing his gaze again at her as the water cradled her body. Stupid questions for stupid men. “When will she be fit to come with us again?”

“We have to run tests,” the alien explained, scratching his face with his elongated arm. “Her immune system might not have the antibodies to battle the sort of diseases--”

“Shut up. She’s been with us for months without issue.”

“Right. Well. Maybe it just took the right kind of virus. Or maybe traveling just finally caught up with her. Nonetheless, we’ll run our tests and have more information for you. You can wait in--” 

Vegeta’s gaze turned down to the man. He stared into those oversized black eyes of his. The man stared back, silent for a few moments.

“You can wait here, if you would like. We’ll stay out of your way and give you information when we have it.”

The tip of Vegeta’s tail swished. He crossed his arms and leaned a little more casually against the wall. 

* * *

Her POV

The first thing she heard were noises. Nothing clear. Gurgles and words that felt a million miles away. The suggestions of a conversation, and of something more rhythmic- beeping, or the throb of a heartbeat. When her mind had woken up to that, other sensations came next. She felt warm. Warm, like in a hot bath that was just beginning to cool. Like swimming in a pool on a hot day. She was buoyant and light, and although she had some sensation that she was not laying on her back, she may as well have been with how relaxed she felt. Other than something tight pressing to her mouth. Something allowing her to breathe, maybe. The air felt stale. …. Where was she? Her eyes twitched, as she woke further. She could hardly remember what had happened to get her here. Only... Vegeta. 

She was following him, and suddenly had felt dizzy. Her vision had gotten cloudy, and that’s where her memory ended.

She struggled to force her eyes open into a squint. Her vision was clouded. Not the fogginess she vaguely remembered before. This was different. Her vision this time was clouded by blue ripples, by color that was just barely too thick to see past and her own eyes refusing to focus more than they already were. She could still see her lashes through her vision; how open were her eyes even? Her body ached at her to stay still, though she felt all too tempted to try and reach up and force her eyes to open further. The most she managed to muster was a twitch of her finger.

She lingered on what little she did see. She could see two blurry outlines, one greenish in hue and the other a  more vague color that she couldn’t make out other than being a blob of greys and blues. They seemed to sway with the ripples and swirling of the rest of her vision, but never too far. Just a gentle swing, back and forth.

At least she felt.... Safe. Secure. Her eyes fluttered closed again. She strained her ears to see if she could pick up on the voices she heard, but it was impossible. They’d seemed to have lessened regardless; too quiet to hear, if there at all. She sighed, and her lungs filled with sterile, sweet air. 

She supposed she could sleep for a little while longer.

* * *

His POV

He’d been watching her for quite some time while the doctors ran tests and tried to figure out what was wrong with her. She hadn’t moved. At least, not in any way that suggested consciousness. She just swayed gently with the movement of the water in the tank. He tapped his finger on his bicep as he stared her down, as if he could will her awake. He’d only come to this stupid planet to quickly find a hospital for the both of them, and yet all the same he somehow just wanted to hurry and escape the planet with her and Raditz and go back as they were. His leg wound was all but forgotten, even as it occasionally deeply throbbed to remind him it still existed. It didn’t matter now.  Bulma getting better and then getting the fuck off this planet was what mattered.

...Given how long he’d been resting against this wall, his mind wandered to the long-haired  dumbasss he’d left behind. Raditz better not be doing anything moronic while he was away. He didn’t want to come back to any galaxy police on their ass, given there was already one around. As soon as this was over with, he’d be pissed if there was anything getting in the way of just leaving the planet. He--

… She twitched.

He saw it. Her eyes had opened, just barely. Just the slightest sliver, but they were open. Her finger twitched. He was elevated from his thoughts and he stood straighter. It was only then he’d noticed that little doctor from before was next to him again. Perhaps he’d already been trying to get Vegeta’s attention and Vegeta hadn’t cared enough to notice, or maybe he had been working up the courage to get his attention. Regardless, both of them were now only focused on one thing. 

“She’s awake.”

“Th... That’s great, but—But she’s not quite ready to come out yet.”

Vegeta scowled. His tail snapped, and the doctor instinctively took a step back.

“What the hell is taking so long with these damn tests?” 

“It’s... Well. She’s got a series of infections, we wanted to figure out the cause and exactly what was wrong with her. We can’t just release her willy-nilly into the public. She could be a patient zero sort of situation. Or she could simply die.”

That at least stopped Vegeta from continuing to argue. He continued to scowl, however, and went back to staring at Bulma. Her eyes had closed again. Had she fallen back asleep? She was sicker than he thought, maybe. A series of infections...

“You can’t figure out what the hell is really wrong with her?”

“Ah... It might have been something rare she picked up. We just want to make absolute certain before making a diagnosis. It’s hard to figure out these things on humanoids like her, from planets that aren’t well-researched. For all we know, a common sickness could turn an Earthling to her current state. We don’t have the most up to date technology here, so running the tests on what kind of bacterial infection she has... It takes some time, sir.”

Vegeta’s nostrils flared and he snorted a gust of air from his nose in response. Pathetic.  Of course some shitty planet like this couldn’t even get tests immediately. This was his fucking fault for wanting to just pick the closest planet to go to. His own fucking fault. What lucky he had. His arms tightened across his chest, letting out his frustration with his fingers whitening as they gripped his biceps. She’d gone so long without getting sick. What was different this time? She’d survived everything down to acid rain burning her skin, and now was the time where she decided to fall apart on a bacterial infection?

“The last planet we were at had a lot of mud and fumes. We were there only some ten hours ago.” Vegeta offered, surprising the doctor. 

“O... Oh! Oh. Well, she’s... Very sick. This sort of infection happens after a long period of being untreated.”

Vegeta squinted. She’d been sneezing for a while. Could it be tied to that? When had she started that... After he’d freed her from that prison ship? … Maybe it was for the best that he not  bring that up, given he didn’t want any more bullshit with the galactic patrol right now. Maybe she’d caught it from that planet they were on before then. 

“She started sneezing and coughing a couple weeks ago. We were just at some shitty port, uh... I don’t remember the name. It was a desert planet. Lots of fuckers that looked a bit like you, except more colorful.” 

“Ah. That could be helpful. I’ll-- I’ll go research that. Those test results should be received in an hour or so. Please, just... Make yourself comfortable, sir.”

“ Hnf .”

“R... Right.” The bug hurried off on his way, as if this entire time he’d been eager for an excuse to leave the room. Better to Vegeta. He preferred the silence unless the thing had any actual information to give him.

When that doctor came to bother Vegeta again, he wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed. If they could even properly keep track of time, on a planet like this. He took one glance at the doctor and watched him stop in place six feet away, rather than dare get any closer. He rolled his eyes.  Bulma hadn’t moved beyond a twitch every once in a while, he’d better have an answer for him.

“Sir, she’s fairly sick. I just-- …. Well...”

“What? Out with it, you pathetic insect.” The doctor visibly stiffened. Eugh. Afraid so easily...

“She might have to stay here for a few days. The water has to work at destroying the infection. It’s more serious than we thought. It’s a specific strain we can’t fight immediately beyond just helping her heal as her body fights it naturally. If we take her out, she could end up losing a limb. Which, I’m guessing in her species, does not seem to be something that could be regrown.”

Vegeta groaned. Goddamn it. Stuck for days. He glanced toward  Bulma again. Losing a limb. He wasn’t going to let that happen. 

Goddamn it. They’d be here a while. His leg throbbed.

He... Supposed he might as well get it looked at like he originally intended, now that he was forced to stay regardless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy, how are you guys doing? Today was kinda busy and I nearly forgot to post, orz  
> A very Vegeta-centric chapter. :)


	20. Deterioration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma only gets worse. Vegeta finds out something new and worrying.

**His POV**

This was taking too long. 

His leg had been healed within thirty minutes of being submerged in the same healing water that  Bulma was currently engulfed in. He’d rubbed some of the shit on his back for good measure, though the scars had healed on that quickly enough that he couldn’t even tell if it had done anything for the more lasting damage, since the injuries remaining were only cosmetic. He had healed so fast- So what was wrong with her? She was strong enough that she should be fine by now. She wasn’t even in any sort of battle. 

Felled by an infection—Hardly a way for a Saiyan to go. He recalled, in his earliest memories, something similar happening on occasion to real Saiyans. Biological Saiyans. They were looked on with disdain, to the point that many often opted to have a final battle while significantly weakened, if only to be put out of their misery and die a more honorable death. Whatever honor a Saiyan could have, anyway.

If Nappa was still alive, he would have tried to force another coup by now. Maybe he’d try to kill  Bulma himself, while Vegeta wasn’t looking. He hadn’t told Raditz yet. He hadn’t left the hospital. How could he? He’d fallen asleep at least once in his time there, and he was well aware he’d be infinitely more comfortable in a hotel room bed. But every time he looked to  Bulma as she rested, he grew disgusted at the idea of possibly leaving her alone. That feeling in his chest would rise. Without intending, his tail would begin to flick rapidly. 

Goddamn it, he couldn’t leave.

At least, not until his stomach had begun to rumble. Then it was a different story. At  first he had done his best to ignore it, but a Saiyan’s appetite was an insane thing. He hadn’t lasted long with the constant nagging pang of his stomach, demanding to be fed. And he hadn’t been too keen on the idea of asking the hospital staff for food. Not that they were around to ask; the crew around  Bulma seemed to be skeletal, and the ones that did come in would eye Vegeta in terror and leave so soon as they were able. Instead, he had opted to head back to the hotel. Raditz was bound to have some amount of food service going. It’d also do to keep something to an eye on the moron, and to update him that they would be staying on this planet for some time. 

That’s where he kept his mind at the entire time he was flying back, as short as that time was. Food, and updating the long-haired moron. That was it. Then he’d fly back and keep an eye on  Bulma again, before anything had a chance of getting worse. He didn’t like that there was Galactic Patrol wandering around. He didn’t like the doctors in general. He especially didn’t like  Bulma being by herself- Stupid shit always happened with her when that was the case. 

He reached the hotel within a couple minutes, having gotten turned around in the blacknesss; the city could only light so much. Especially when up above the cyan streets, the darkness seemed to eat away at light and make it harder to navigate. Just another annoyance to add to his day. 

The lobby was empty, devoid of even a clerk. Better for him. He had no interest in being bothered any more than he already had been. His footsteps echoed as he made his way to the elevator and then, once reaching his floor, through the halls. He smelled food coming from the direction of their room. Good. He could at least rely on not having to wait for it, possibly needing to deal with some pompous buffoon of a hotel staff to do so. 

The moment he was within arm’s reach, he flung the hotel door open. And of course, Vegeta should have known that nothing was ever so easy for him. His headache had been bound to get worse and worse.

He’d found the clerk.

She already had bruising on a good deal of her naked, shaking body. She bled blue from a gash on her arm. But all the same she was sitting on Raditz’s thigh, feeding him some type of meat as Raditz played absentmindedly with her penis. 

It was a sight that  Bulma would have lost her mind at. Raditz didn’t seem to think Vegeta would care, given he glanced over, saw him, and kept eating the food he was being fed. He didn’t have to risk getting his eye gouged up like had happened to  Bulma , since she wasn’t with him, after all.  Bulma would have torn him apart if she were here. But she wasn’t. Had he felt Vegeta’s  ki , and taken note that he didn’t feel  Bulma’s ? Or did he figure that  Bulma was too weak to do anything drastic, or that he would expect it this time, and not be blindsided like Nappa had been?

Vegeta stepped toward the bed Raditz was making a mess in, enjoying himself among cleaned, gnawed bones and crumbs. His hand darted out to grab a fistful of his matted hair, and in a single motion that left the clerk falling backward into a heap on the floor, he threw the Saiyan out the door, splintering the doorframe as he  flew and crashed into the wall at the other end of the hallway. 

He took another passing glance at the clerk, who had curled herself into a tight ball with her hands over her head. His eyes wandered, then to the tray of food, knocked over by the force of Raditz hitting it. Most of the food scattered about was eaten, but he took note of and grabbed a massive leg of meat and bit into it. The juice spilled down his chin at his first bite. He ripped the meat off with a jerk of his head, and took a step back out into the hallway to meet with Raditz. He could see him from there, the drywall powder coloring him white; doing his best to pull himself up without tripping over the mess of what had once been a wall. He must have been too surprised to speak; he didn’t even hell out to him. Always a goddamn moron. He was at least put in his place by Vegeta’s action; has soon as the long-haired man realized he was coming up to him, he stopped trying to get up again.

“Raditz,” he spoke. Taking his last two swaying steps to loom over him. His jaw popped as chewed on his food. “Do you want to end up like Nappa? I could do that. I can beat the shit out of you with your own goddamn arms, if that’s what you’d like, you miserable fool.”

He waited for an answer, but Raditz just stared up at him with eyes like a deer. Vegeta swallowed. He brought the meat up to his lips again, and sucked up the juices from it. He let it linger on his tongue before spitting it out into Raditz face, reveling quietly in the idiot wiping at his eyes frantically. 

“If you knew something would piss me off, would you go and do it? Let’s pretend you didn’t run off with the bald, dead bastard. Would you?”

“I-- Uhh. No. No--”

“No. So fucking keep this in mind. You don’t do shit that pisses  Bulma off, either. If you need motivation to get that through that tiny little kidney bean you call a brain, remember this: What pisses  Bulma off, pisses me off. Don’t forget it, you fucking mistake.”

Raditz cleared his eyes and stared up at him again, hesitating for a split second before nodding his head like a madman. Good. Now he could go fucking eat. But rather than sit around, he picked up the tray, loaded it with food, and dragged the whole damn thing back with him to the hospital. 

He hadn’t even bothered to spare a glance to see how the hospital staff reacted to that one once he returned to the building and searched for  Bulma’s room a second time. He was too busy focusing on her  ki as he chewed on a bone. Odd, like he’d noticed before. But there. What was so strange about it, though? Was it just that she was sick? He might go so far as to say it felt stronger than usual, which shouldn’t be possible with her current state. 

He dropped down onto a chair and ate his food absentmindedly as he stared up at her and debated it. He hadn’t even noticed the doctor there until he cleared his throat. Vegeta’s only acknowledgement of him was a grunt.

“Sir, we’ve been running some tests—Sometimes these aren’t entirely reliable, given there are so many different types of alien life like hers and they all have different hormones and different reproductive systems--”

The doctor’s words became static. Goddamn it. That’s what it was. Fuck. Now?  _ Now? _ That was what the fuck was wrong with her  ki . … Was that what was wrong with her in general? No,  Kakarot had some kind of mate back on Earth. Unless that was a second one, but she did seem to treat the cub like her own. Fuck.  _ Fuck!  _ He snapped his hand out and grabbed the alien by his collar. He squeaked out the most pathetic noise in response. Eugh.

“Is that what’s wrong with her?”

“A- N... No, sir. Li- Like I said be- before, it’s-- It’s just got us m-more worried a-a-a-about the po-potential, ah,  ch -child...”

Vegeta promptly let go, and ripped off another bite of meat from a breast of meat with his teeth as he stared down Bulma’s visage. 

**_ Fuck. _ **

* * *

.

.

.

**Her PoV**

She was never awake for too long. She’d become conscious for a little while, and through a fog of random thoughts and feelings and sensations, she’d barely piece together where she was before she’d go back to resting. When she’d opened her eyes this time, she was met with the same blurry vision as always. Vague figures around her, sometimes moving closer, but never close enough for her to tell who they were, but almost always just about the same color schemes. Though once, she sleepily recalled staring at a short blue and purple figure that felt strangely familiar, like a long-forgotten dream.

She knew that she’d woken up like this a few times already, though had no concept of how many times exactly, or how much time she had spent overall in this state. But she never felt... Unsafe. The light didn’t seem particularly bright through the warm gel she seemed to be resting in. It occurred to her that it was not unlike a lava lamp, the way she swayed and drifted. Never fast enough to make her sick, only to make her feel like a baby in some kind of crib.

It was only after a minute or so of being conscious did she wake up to the fact that something was different than last time. She had managed to, to some extent, move her fingers before. She remembered that clearly the more she thought about it. She’d been able to feel the gel on the skin of her hand, of her palms, between her fingers—Now it was nothing. In fact, she could have sworn she had been able to feel the warmth of the gel more vividly before across her entire body. 

She struggled to move her fingers. If they were moving, she couldn’t tell. Even trying to turn her head downward to check was difficult. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was fully aware that something like this would usually have her panic. And yet all the same... She didn’t even feel her heart tense. It had felt so natural of a revelation. There was nothing to panic about. She was somewhere safe. Warm. Dim.

And before she knew it, Bulma had already drifted back to sleep. 

* * *

**His POV**

It proved pointless to have been in such a rush to leave and return to the hospital when he had--  Bulma did not improve. Days went by, and Vegeta became more used to coming and going, though he had a tendency to linger around for hours. At some point, he had to explain to Raditz- Something he had done only in passing and as dismissively as possible. If the man knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t be trying anything. He’d seemed to at least learnt that well enough after the punishment he’d gotten for harassing the hotel clerk, judging by his behavior following it. As far as Vegeta could tell when he wasn’t at the hospital, anyway- he hadn’t cared to pay that much attention.  Bulma was the top priority on his mind. 

He had only just finished eating another few  tons of food at the hotel, and had just arrived back at the hospital again. The same he’d been doing for a few days. As he walked into the room, he scowled at the blue-haired woman still resting in the tank. She looked like she was withering away, even with the help of the healing water. Her arms had a blackened color to them now. Supposedly, although the water could heal most wounds, it couldn’t force her blood to circulate fully around her body again. What was happening in her arms was entirely due to a lack of blood flow. Rather ironic, Vegeta thought, that after being bathed in blood, she suddenly doesn’t seem to have enough of it.

Her  ki , at least, had not changed. Now that he knew the cause of the strange  feeling he got from it, that was something of a relief to him. She wasn’t dying, at least as far as her energy was concerned. The question was just if she’d get better. Without losing those limbs.

Every once in a while, she’d twitch. Sometimes she’d open her eyes just a crack for a little, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was at least partially conscious. Fight, you idiot. Hurry up and get better so we could get off this goddamn planet already. Then they could figure out what the hell to do next.

Namely, with what she had inside her. It was something that made him keep coming back to the memories of  Kakarot’s stupid brat. He’d never been interested in reviving their planet. Children were an annoyance at absolute best, anyway. If this had come up months ago, when  Bulma was still nothing but a slave to him, he probably would have gotten rid of the thing. Either she could wait to give birth and they’d get rid of it then, or he could have just kicked her enough times, or dropped her down a cliff. 

And yet now, even the passing thought of doing such a thing boiled his blood and sent the hair on the back of his neck and on his tail rising. He ran his hand roughly down his tail to slick back the puffed-out hair, and his jaw popped as he rocked it to the side in thought. ...Would she even want to keep it? She couldn’t have known at that point. She hadn’t skipped any periods yet. She didn’t act any different, and it was only just recently that he’d been able to sense anything was off about her  ki .

That would be their next hurdle, then, he supposed. After... If.... She woke up, hopefully with both arms and both legs intact, who the hell knew how  sh’ed react to finding out. He could already anticipate the meltdown. Vegeta huffed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs, and the same word that had been cycling through his head bubbled up to the surface again.

_**Fuck.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than usual, though I think it's not really obscenely short. It's to be expected, with a chapter so centric on a single character. Also I think the few usual spaces between POV switches that don't exist in this chapter have tricked my brain into thinking it's shorter than it really is. There's only about 300 less words than last chapter.
> 
> Anyway, I'd say we're about at the halfway point of the book. That might not mean another 20 chapters- I'm chugging through this pretty fast since there's not as much stalling like happened back when this was just copy/pastes of roleplays. But as far as the story is concerned in my head, we're at the halfway point of the general outline.
> 
> Also, I don't know that I'll be on time two weeks from now. I'm taking a week-long break from art and I thought it might be nice to do that to my fanfic, too. I feel like I've been too obsessive about being too productive every day, yknow? I'd like to catch up on video games and stuff. I may write if I get a feel for it but I may not. I'll see how much I write the following week, I might still have enough to post. Otherwise you'll just have to wait a week longer than usual. I hope you understand! Sometimes you just gotta take a break, even from hobbies.


	21. Awaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About a month passes. Bulma wakes up.

**Her PoV**

The muffled noise of something opening woke her. Not all at once. She stirred, barely conscious, moments from falling back to sleep until warm hands grabbed her from under her biceps. She hadn’t realized how cold the water had been until the moment the hands hit her skin to serve as a comparison. She was pulled from the water, and when her head broke the surface and she took her first breath, she was left a shivering mess. She blinked over and over again to free her vision from the cloud that masked it. An insect man in a  labcoat looked back at her, and was busy poking and prodding her. She made an attempt to slap his hand away, but found her hand hadn’t moved at all. She instinctively looked down, horrified by the red, swollen limb that certainly hadn’t been what she remembered only moments ago. ...It had only been moments, hadn’t it? She couldn’t have been passed out for so--

“ Khehhk !” She coughed viciously, her body jolting with it, when an insect removed her oxygen mask. Another insect man, not just the one. They hauled her out of the tank together, and she’d found a third to grab her by the legs. Where even—She squinted as she desperately tried to remember the last thing she was doing. She had fuzzy memories of being in that tank, but--

...Vegeta. That was it. She’d been going to the hospital with Vegeta. But her limbs had been fine then. She had been walking with him, by herself. And now—She tried again to slap away an insect that was prickling his stupid pointed little sticks he called arms all over her. But again, nothing happened. The insects helped her down to some sort of examination table, and she focused her stared down at her fingers.

They twitched.

“Oh, well there’s a good sign!”  Bulma jolted when one of the doctors spoke up. The one that’d originally grabbed her. One of the others quickly wrapped her with a thick towel to help with her shivering. She sucked in her breath.

“She’s been more or less passed out this whole time, hasn’t she? She’s probably completely lost.”

“Ma’am, do you know where you are?”

Bulma squinted at him. “Th... The hospital. "

“Good,” he replied. He... Seemed pleased, however that looked on an insect. The way his antennae flicked didn’t seem aggressive. “You’ve given us quite the fright. Why are the galactic patrol after you?” 

Her eyes widened instinctively, but before she could even think to answer, he continued.

“I suppose that’s none of our business. You had quite the infection, anyway. We weren’t sure you’d make it limbs and all. Good you’re waking up now, and not when they were black. They look scary now, but that’s just the blood rushing back. It should heal and be back to its normal size soon.”

“Eh?”

“You heard me. You’ll be fine. And the b--” One of the other insects whacked him.

“Oh. Oh, right. You have something to talk about with that Saiyan. We’re not going to touch on that. Guy gives us the heebie-jeebies.” 

“...Eh?”

“Don’t worry about it.” As he said it, he seemed to be looking elsewhere. Her shoulder was gripped, and again, she jolted. As she instinctively leaned away from the smaller insect doctor looming behind her, the thought arose in  Bulma’s head that she’d have probably spiraled by now into another episode if she wasn’t half so delirious as she felt. She hadn’t understood half of what they told her, and her mind still swam. She stared down at her arm again as the insect continued to say she could stay here until that Saiyan came to get her. Vegeta—Where was he? He hadn’t left her behind, had he? ...She was a Saiyan now too, he wouldn’t do that, would he?

Before she knew it, she was alone in the room. She hadn’t known when it had happened, but at some  point someone had pricked her arm; there was a new bandage on there that hadn't been there a second ago, the same as Earth doctors taped to arms following a shot. They’d been examining her the entire time, and she had been completely oblivious as she tried desperately to listen to the words of the doctor in front of her. 

Vegeta... He hadn’t left her, had he? She’d forgotten to ask how long she’d been here. She could hardly recall a thing, but the more she sat, the more she could remember bits of time where she would occasionally wake again.  ….It had been a while, hadn’t it? She attempted to rub the throbbing vein on the side of her head, but was left exasperated again when she was reminded of how little her limbs could move. How long would that take to get over? They hadn’t said that, either. They’d rushed out so quickly. She was at least thankful she could look over her shoulder well enough to see Vegeta just barely arriving in the doorway. Any sense of calm left her heart as she stared into his furious gaze.

“Fucking vermin waited until I go out to grab something to eat. And the worst fucking time--”

With the blink of an eye, he was across the hospital room and had grabbed her up in his arms. More gently than he had ever before, that she could recall. Especially compared to the way he’d been all but carrying her around like a sack of potatoes when she was struggling with the gravity when they’d first arrived on the planet. 

“Veg--”

“Picked the worst goddamn time. We’re leaving this damn planet. Should never have wasted my time here, we should have just done the longer trek. Fuck.” He hadn’t heard her whispered attempt at his name. The jostle as he quickly walked out of the hospital left her dizzy, as if she’d stood up too fast. Even as Vegeta took his hand and pressed it  firmly to her temple to keep her head against his shoulder. Had he ever done something so gentle before? 

“Ve-- Vegeta,” she repeated, slightly louder. He didn’t say anything back, but this time he hadn’t spoken over her, either.

“The... The doctors said that you have something to talk about?”

He was silent still.  Bulma closed her eyes for a moment to focus on collecting her thoughts and to pray her headache away. So he wouldn’t talk on that front. Maybe she could try a different question.

“How long has it been?” And to this, he was silent too. But only for a beat or two, as if he’d been debating for a moment whether or not to actually humor her by speaking.

“Moron doctors said it’d be a few days. Apparently ‘days’ on this  stupidass planet means weeks. It’s been probably around a month.”

A month. And they hadn’t left her? The concept of Vegeta staying in place for an entire month felt so foreign. She wanted to ask him why, but she feared any kind of answer he gave, or if he’d just drop her ass right there and leave her to prove something to the both of them. 

“Can you move your arms?” He’d unexpectedly asked.

“Fingers. A little bit.”

He quieted again, though he’d at least provided her with his usual grunt. She couldn’t help but feel as if he were keeping something from her. Something important. What the hell would a doctor be not telling her because they were too scared of him? Maybe if her head didn’t feel so clouded from just arriving out of her coma, she could figure it out. 

How many times had she ended up like this, dazed, confused, and struggling with a sense of missing something important?  Yamcha would think her a complete moron, if he were around now. 

Though her personal struggles were the least of her concern the moment Vegeta stepped out from the hospital. People were screaming and chanting in some alien language in the distance. It had been muffled enough in the hospital she hadn’t noticed it, but as soon as they were outside--

And to compliment the screams, a deafening bang left  Bulma reeling. 

“What the fuck was that?” She asked incredulously. Her ears were prepared for the next bang.

“Alien shit that’s got nothing to do with us,” Vegeta replied.

“ People’re hungry, I guess.” It was only then  Bulma had noticed Vegeta had been leaning against the hospital, waiting for them. “That cute clerk mentioned it before. Only place with light and they’re wasting it, apparently.”

The native aliens, then. They’d finally gotten sick of this port. ...Had the strife been that bad when she was awake? God help her if she ever lost so much time again. Her head throbbed. If only she actually had the arm strength to rub her temples, maybe she’d be able to give herself even the slightest ounce of relief. Nope, she had to simply settle for finding comfort in the way Vegeta held her head against him. And thank God that the suit she’d put on before was continuing to work to stop the gravity hell she’d been on when she first came to the planet. 

...Though the thought did arise that she’d been wearing these same clothes for who knew how long. Did she stink? Her nose wrinkled at the thought. And it wasn’t as if either of those two idiots would even notice if she did, with how Nappa stunk. 

At least as Vegeta lifted into the air, she could hope that the wind would whisk any smell away from her, while doubling as leaving her relaxed, especially with the glowing of the rocks below them.

It would have been nice to stay a little longer. If the planet didn’t have gravity straight from hell..

* * *

**His PoV**

She hadn’t asked what he was supposed to talk to her about again. Thank fuck for that. Piece of shit doctors, just dropping that on him. As if it weren’t enough to suddenly decide they were going to jump ship to another planet after  Bulma was only partially healed. ‘She’ll be fine,’ the bastards said. ‘Her arms aren’t black anymore.’ When she could barely move her fingers still.

Nevermind that the doctors were the last in the damn port to actually evacuate. Fuckers were lucky he was thinking of what  Bulma’s reaction to waking up with blood and guts everywhere would be, or they’d all be one with the hospital walls.

That kind of stress probably wouldn’t be good for-- 

…

It felt odd, feeling that thing’s  ki . Knowing that’s what it was. Did  Bulma really not have the slightest clue? Then again, the woman didn’t even feel a parasite squirming around inside of her, either. Earthlings had impossibly dull senses. Maybe that’s part of why they seemed to die so easily. 

That child wouldn't be Earthling, though. It had Saiyan blood running through it. Vegeta’s eyes lingered on that woman, dwelling on the thought. But just as soon as she glanced up at him—at least able to move her head, it seemed—he stared forward yet again. Lest she inevitably ask what he was staring at her so deeply for.

How the fuck was he even supposed to tell her? Another explosion rang in his ears as they passed from the port back into darkness. 

“There’s a lot of aliens down there,”  Bulma commented, watching the commotion below. He grunted in response. Whatever. Why did it matter? As if they didn’t have their own shit to worry about. Even if she had no damn clue about being pregnant, she at least had possible paralysis on her hands. And the damn woman was still making stupid, passive observations about others. 

He knew the contradiction there. It screamed at him in the back of his mind, that he could be annoyed at her as much as he wanted for not being selfish enough, but that, at the end of it all, he— _ Goddamn _ it. Goddamn that fucking woman, and what he’d done to her. If he hadn’t murdered Nappa, the man would certainly be going berserk by now. Maybe that was the one relief Vegeta could take from that, that they’d be in even deeper shit if he hadn’t taken the chance to get rid of that giant moron when he had.

Another relief came in that the aliens below were so busy that no one would pay mind to a ball of  ki in Raditz’s hand as they navigated the darkness. There hadn’t been many twists and turns, he remembered- they'd largely walked in a straight line. That had made it much easier to find the pods. They were easy to spot with even the slightest bit of light to bounce off the metallic sheen. Apparently even that was too difficult for an Earthling’s eyes to spot; once he and Raditz landed,  Bulma let out a surprised ‘oh.’ 

“You found it already?”

He didn’t answer her, again. Why would he? Stupid questions, as usual. He shifted her weight and went to open her pod, before stopping.

...Should she be riding alone? He didn’t have to worry about anyone having sabotaged their pods this time, but if anything at all were to happen... Beyond being essentially paralyzed—That  ki that was present inside her, different from her own, prickled his skin. He glanced for a moment over at Raditz. The man hadn’t bothered giving him so much as a passing glance as he got himself into his own pod. Damn. Why did he care so deeply about this? The discomfort in his chest only succeeded in making him angrier. Angrier that he was bothered at all by this. Angrier that there felt as though there was something wrong with him, like something was going on that he didn’t quite understand. Not just a passing, fleeting feeling. No, something that had been nagging at him, especially the moment  Bulma first fainted.

“Vegeta?”

Goddamn it. She was paying attention. She realized something was wrong. He hardened his shitty, stupid heart and opened the pod. He shoved her in,  albeit far more gently than he wished he were able to, and properly strapped in with that damn seatbelt device she’d made for herself. 

“What? Why did you hesitate? I saw that.”

He wasn’t making eye contact with her, but he felt her ocean eyes staring holes into his head.

“What did the doctors mean when they said you had something to tell me?” 

Her voice had gotten more demanding. He’d like more than anything to just program her pod to stick with theirs and shut the pod door in her face, but he knew that was impossible. He’d just end up at the wrong end of a screaming mouth the moment they reached their destination. Maybe this is the best point. He could tell her here, and he was safe. He could tell her here, and she could deal with the fallout all in the pod by herself. Maybe she’d be somewhat under control when they reached the next planet. His eyes flicked to hers. Her brows had furrowed, the same way they always did, when she was ready to yell at him for something but not quite ready to put her full energy into it yet. That goddamn woman.

“You’re pregnant.” He didn’t close the pod door at first. He lingered, watched in her eyes as she recognized the words, quickly turned to disbelief, and then evolved to realization. She believed him. What, was she doing the math in her head? 

“Pregnant...”

“Pregnant,” he repeated. He glanced to Raditz to confirm he was waiting in the pod. He gave  Bulma a nod, deciding that was enough support and that the rest of the fallout was hers to deal with. It wasn’t as if he was one to comfort, anyway. Or whatever the hell she’d need.

The pod was closed, and he turned to his own oversized pod. Though even as he programmed it and set off, she lingered on his mind. Was she losing her mind alone? Was she crying? Having another of those panic attacks? ...Should he have stayed with her? No, of course not. He knew that. But... 

Goddamn it. 

Maybe Nappa had a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! Sorry about that extra week. It was a nice week off. Shot me in the foot with the attention I get for my art online tho lmao. Algorithms...   
> But this was good anyway because I really didn't need to be posting around Christmas. Woulda really set me back. I'll see you guys in 2021.


	22. Uncommunicative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma grapples with the news, and confronts Vegeta once they land.

**Her** **PoV**

Pregnant.

Her ears didn’t really register it, at first. She stared back at Vegeta, her brain slowly catching up with what he’d said. She had even repeated it to him and heard it repeated back, and yet it still too her a moment to process it. And just as it set in, the pod door was closed. She was being left alone.

She could feel the throb of her veins as adrenaline kicked in. Pregnant. Pre... ...Her eyes snapped down to her stomach. No bigger than usual. Then again, he’d said it had only been about a month. Of course it wouldn’t be...

When did that happen? Had she JUST gotten-- 

The memory of her riding Vegeta back on that primal planet surged to the front of her mind. 

Ah. Her brows furrowed. She hadn’t thought anything of it. Yes, her stupid birth control seemed to have broken in the blast, but she didn’t think it’d wear off so quickly. And how many times had she and  Yamcha done risqué things? Even her and Vegeta, how many times had he forgone a condom? And all that time... Now. Now was when it all caught up to her and she ended up pregnant.

She felt the instinct to each for her stomach, but her arms barely budged. Any attempt to continue to push herself ended when the pods finally lifted off into the air, pressing  Bulma further into her chair. 

Pregnant.

The word rang in her ears. Her? With a kid? ...Especially in this sort of world. What the hell sense did that make? She already had her qualms about the idea before any of this happened—it was one of the primary reasons why she and  Yamcha hadn’t married. She had no interest in it. And yet here she was, so far removed from what she used to be, pregnant with an alien man’s child. In all honesty, she was completely surprised that Vegeta hadn’t just opted to have them abort it while she was in the hospital.

…

Actually, why hadn’t he done that? He’d been especially gentle to her, instead. The complete opposite of what she’d expect. 

Why was it so hard to figure that man out? His scent lingered, musky but sweet. And her eyes lowered again to her stomach. His child. She was pregnant with his child. She reached again. Bit by bit, she pulled her hand closer until her palm cupped her stomach. 

What the hell was she going to do? Would she stumble around pregnant for the next nine months? Deal with constant morning sickness? Be on her feet all the time? Where would she end up giving birth? Some cave somewhere, hoping not to die from childbirth or be killed by something?

What if it were a girl? Would she deal with the same sort of hell? Would Raditz... Her breath sucked in at the idea. She... She had to get rid of it, right? She couldn’t keep it. There was no way. And Vegeta had to know that. 

So why hadn’t he just commanded the doctors to get rid of it?

Without her noticing, her jaw had become so tense that a pain shot through her cheek when she released the tension to breathe in sharply. The word ran through her head again. Pregnant. Pregnant... Would he force her to have it? 

The cruel concept brought stinging tears to her eyes. Hadn’t she been in enough pain already? Would she be forced through childbirth, too? Her fingers were quivering over the skin of her belly. Deep breathes, she told herself. Deep breaths. She rested her head back against her chair, and cursed her inability to wipe away the tears that started to roll down the sides of her face. Not now. She wasn’t going to have a panic attack now. What would that help things? She couldn’t move, her head still felt half-dazed, she... 

...She was so  _ stupid. _

* * *

**His POV**

Vegeta’s legs were comfortably kicked up on the dashboard and his arms were loosely crossed over his chest as he stared out the window into the stars. Complete silence. No longer having to worry about how crammed in he was with some twitchy woman that took up far too much space. And yet he couldn’t relax. 

How was she doing? Was she screaming and throwing a fit? She could barely move, how was she handling that? It only irritated him more to know he cared so much. Though he could at least tell himself it was because he was worried about what the  hell he would be dealing with at the end of it, once they landed and he opened her pod door. He shivered at the thought of her endless nagging. 

There was never any winning with her. What did she expect from him? A sit-down? There was nothing to talk about. She was pregnant. She could figure out how she felt about that on her own. She should be lucky that he didn’t just toss her to the curb when he found out. If she wanted it dealt with, well. 

He tapped his fingers on his bicep. He’d be fine with that, wouldn’t he? It’d be the better option. His eyes wandered, and landed on his tail, resting curled up around his waist. And twice its normal size, from how bushed up it had become.

...Goddamn it. Why did he care so much? He cursed under his breath and worked on smoothing his fur down again. If he had a plate of food in front of him, he could at least have something else to focus on. But as it stood, he was alone in his thoughts. And they had quite a journey ahead of them.

How would they even handle it if  Bulma didn’t gain her ability to move back? In general, what would they do once she became heavy with child? They’d have to lug a newborn around. Nappa’s actions came back to haunt him. He could feel the hairs on his tail raising again even as he pushed them down. Goddamn it. All of this just felt so goddamn unnatural. It wasn’t right for a Saiyan to worry about these things.  Kakarot had been wrong in the head to have a family unit. Vegeta himself only technically had a father. He hadn’t the slightest clue who was mother was, and the only reason he knew anything of his father was because he was royalty. The only other family he’d ever known was  Tarble . His little brother that had been sent off long ago for being a complete weakling. 

He hadn’t seen him since he was a child, but he could recall  Tarble well enough. Small, weak, bullied by other  Saiyans their age because he’d cry about so much as killing a fly. That one... Vegeta’s brows knit. Maybe Vegeta was coming down with whatever disease that boy had. Maybe there was something wrong with him now, the same way there was something wrong with his younger brother. 

Such an idea implied that the royal family’s blood was tainted, but his father, after all, had been stupid enough to let  Frieza destroy their planet.

He glanced down to find his tail was puffing up again. 

* * *

**Her POV**

“Ugh...”

Bulma wasn’t sure when she had passed out, but she had. It hadn’t taken long for her to begin to hyperventilate once she’d started crying. Maybe she’d knocked herself out, or perhaps she’d just begun to cry enough that she lost consciousness out of pure exhaustion. She took a breath and stared out the window, at the twinkling expanse of stars. She’d become so used to the sight, that it had become easy to forget just how breathtaking it was. It was never like this on Earth. Not in West City especially, but not even in the rural places she visited when she first met Son Goku. Not a single space was wasted. Stars as far as her eyes could see, in clusters of purple and blue. Almost as if someone had taken a cloud and thrown glitter over it.

But with a view like this, there was no telling how long she’d been asleep. Not in space It could have been five minutes 

She let out a little breath again, and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

Only shortly after her skin made contact, did she realize she was able to move. 

“Oh,” she murmured, looking down at her hand. It kept a slight reddish hue, but not so horrifying as before. She just looked as if she’d been in the cold slightly too long and her flesh had become flush. Relief flooded her body, and she wiggled around her other arm just to be sure. And then her legs. It didn’t feel quite right—there was a tension as if she was trying to waft through water—but it was a start. It was at least relieving to know she wouldn’t be locked in her body the rest of her damn life. With her eyes swollen and her body dehydrated from crying, that was one thing she could feel relieved about.

She was not about to ruin the good news with dwelling yet again on the hell that gotten her into the crying fit. No. The little word that Vegeta spoke to her bit her in the back of her mind, begging her to think nonstop about it, but she refused, instead digging through her command console to pull up TV again. There was no use thinking of it. She’d done all the thinking one could possibly do on the matter by themselves, alone on a ship like this. It would wait until she had Vegeta to speak to. 

First so she could scream at him for not telling her sooner, and leaving her to deal with it by herself like that.

Second, so she could ask where the hell they’d find an intergalactic abortion clinic. If he didn’t want it, she’d threaten to do it herself. How would he stop her? Punch her and give her a miscarriage? She’d find a way to no longer be pregnant. That’s all she needed. She could keep forcing herself along, but not with a child.

The television flicked to life, and she focused her attention on some stupid rerun of a show she used to like, long ago. A reality show, filled with people fighting over petty drama. 

It did not take long for her to be able to lose herself in the gripping stakes of whether or not  Slipa was a thot for sleeping with  Sneakel . 

.

.

.

Before she knew it, she was given an alert that the ship was landing. She shut off what she had been watching and clung tight to the chair, even in spite of her seatbelt. 

The land, however, was not so terrible as usual. Just as they were beginning to speed up into the planet, the speed suddenly fluctuated to something comfortable and consistent. Like pulled by a magnetized force, the pod switched direction and was pulled—along with the other two pods, she noticed through her window—into a sort of conveyor belt that led into a station. She recalled something similar not long before. Anything to stop another shitty crash-landing. The last one that had led to the pod falling apart mid-drop was still fresh in her mind.

The pod came to a stop, and she could see ahead of her that Vegeta and Raditz’s pods were opening.  Bulma unbuckled herself and opened her pod as well, though found difficulty in coordinating herself as she got up. Her fingers clung to the side of the pod as she pulled herself to her feet, wobbling lightly with one leg on top of the pod’s door.

Vegeta had been halfway between their pods when the steam lifted, and shared a semi-surprised look with her. He’d been expecting her to still be almost entirely paralyzed, clearly, and had been moments away from helping her out of her pod. Of course, though, he was never fully surprised at everything. He could never fully remove that half-irritated, knowing look in his face.

She scowled at him in response. The puzzled expression changed, and he wore a scowl of his own.

“What the HELL, Vegeta!” She yelled, her lungs finding a capacity she hardly knew they had as she clambered out of the pod like a newborn deer. 

He turned as if to just leave her, which only succeeded in frustrating  Bulma ever more. She struggled to chase after him, and as she took her first step onto the concrete-like floor, her other foot got stuck between the platform and the pod door.  Bulma let out a breath and instinctively reached her hands out to protect herself. She braced for impact, but instead, her bicep was grabbed by a thick hand that jerked her upward and steadied her onto her feet. 

She scowled up at Vegeta, and attempted to jerk her arm out of his grasp. As always with a show of strength, it was fruitless. His fingers simply dug into her skin. 

“Let go of me.”

“You’re going to fall again. I don’t have time--”

“Why did you take so long to tell me? Why didn’t you tell me right away?! When I asked?!” As she berated him, he swung her up and threw her over one of his shoulders. Just like he used to, at a time so recent but felt so long ago. She began to thrash, kicking her legs and arms as strongly as she could against his stupid, bulky body.

“You’re still weak. More than usual,” he said, so matter-of-factly. 

“Shut up! I don’t care! Just answer my question!!”

He was silent. Just as  Bulma lost her temper and was about to start pounding on his shoulder again, he finally replied.

“Didn’t want a damn meltdown.”

“WHAT!?” She struggled more, though she could already feel what little energy she had waning. She pulled at his hair, and that seemed to work. After only a minute of it, Vegeta finally let her go onto her feet. He didn’t grab her arm, either. He just kept walking. She stood with her shoulders tight and her hands balled into fists. And... She followed.

“How long are we staying here for?”  Bulma demanded.

Now, even Raditz was glancing back at her. 

“You sound like when we first picked you up. So many questions. Did your brain reset after spending all that time in that chamber?” The long-haired Saiyan snorted at his own attempt at a joke and confidently went back to picking between his teeth with his thumb’s nail.

“As long as I feel like it,” Vegeta replied, without glancing in her direction.  Hnf . What a stupid answer. But it silenced her for a bit. She took in the sights as they stepped out from the cement-like port into a city. Dark and cold, but neither to an egregious degree. It felt almost like Earth, like many cities seemed to. There were no streets in this city, though; just large sidewalks for people. And the skyline was quite different. In West City, there were plenty of skyscrapers with dome-like shapes. Everything here seemed to end in a square or a point. Familiar, and yet not. 

And the sky, she realized—It was just as full as outside her window in the pod. It was only then did she realize why everything felt so dark. There were no lights on the buildings. A complete change to the last planet they stayed on.

“Bulma.” Vegeta’s hand was at her bicep again. She was tugged gently out the way of a pole she hadn’t even seen coming. Her brows knit, and rather than jerk her arm away, she studied the gaze he was giving her. Was it something she’d seen before? He’d showed concern for her in the past, but that glint behind his dark eyes--

She wanted to ask him again, give him a second chance to reveal why he didn’t tell her straight away that she was pregnant. She didn’t believe him, that it was all about just not wanting a meltdown. He’d been so gentle with her back then, too. In a way he hadn’t been before. At least, not quite like it. ...She couldn’t be looking too much into this, could she?

“Stop staring at me and keep your eyes forward so you don’t try to walk into something else,” he told her. She obliged for a second, just checking to make sure she wouldn’t immediately run into anything or anyone. Then she was back to staring at him again. Her lips tightened. She took in a slow breath as she gathered her words. What she’d been so confident about back in the pod.

“I want to get rid of it.”

His eyes slid back to catch hers. Raditz didn’t notice, looking on so far, but there had been a falter in Vegeta’s steps. Was it surprise? Disappointment? Or was he still just refusing to acknowledge reality, and felt uncomfortable talking about it?

“Mmn.” That was the only answer she received, as he picked up speed. It could be worse, she supposed. She wouldn’t be forced into nine months of...

...

“W... Wait! Vegeta! Slow down, I can’t move that quick yet!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was your guys' Christmas and New Years?   
> 2020 has been a hell of a ride for everyone. To be honest, I'm pretty lucky in that it's been a fairly good year for me. I'm a hermit, and basically everything others view as downsides are things I've benefitted from. My sister did get COVID back in January (before anyone knew what it was or that it was here), but otherwise I've been untouched by the worst of it all. I hope you all have been OK.
> 
> Here's to a good 2021. And here's to hopefully ending this fanfic this year, so I can get on to other projects. No offense, but I'm anxious to start on that comic. My priorities have changed so much, and I really do... Want to get somewhere, with the things I create with my own two hands. That's what I've decided I want from my life, rather than running off abroad to start from scratch and maybe one day make a mediocre change in a bleak world like I'd originally been planning when 2020 started.  
> I hope you guys continue to support me, or at least enjoy the rest of the journey we have with this fanfic in the meantime.
> 
> My mama brought me some homemade apple strudel before I finished off this chapter. I'm gonna go eat it now. :)


	23. An Attempt at Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma finds out something about Saiyan culture through Raditz. Vegeta continues to grapple with his mixed feelings.

**His POV**

He could hear the tapping of her feet on the asphalt as she struggled to keep up with him. She wanted to get rid of it. Somehow, he hadn’t even thought about that. Somehow, it frustrated him. He’d felt a flash of anger at her initial suggestion. Or rather, demand. But when he’d stared at her eyes, with that determined shine, shimmering like sunlight off the ocean’s surface, he couldn’t find it worth arguing. What would he do? Force her into pregnancy? For what? A headache at the end of it? A screaming, mewling whelp that might eventually pose a danger to him, and that would only give her a further reason to resent him? 

Still, the  ki that rested, weak but ever-present inside  Bulma nagged at him. And there was a whole other issue he had barely even begun to think about. That last planet barely knew how to handle her. Earthlings were nearly unheard of, and the galaxy only had so many humanoids.  Saiyans themselves could barely be treated effectively given they were a dying breed, as well. And his kind were far  more hardy than the weaklings from  Bulma’s planet. Would they even be able to find a hospital that could do what  Bulma wanted? How many people on this planet alone even had whelps in the way they did? Most of the people he could already see in the street were kinds that screamed egg-laying. 

** “Vegeta!!” **

How long had she been yelling at him? By the glance Raditz gave him, at least a few minutes. Minutes he’d even spent blindly walking, not even paying attention to a destination. Finally, he slowed for her to catch up. 

“Woman, stop wailing.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to slow down? I can’t move that fast yet.”

“It’ll be good for you to stretch those blasted limbs.” Her cheeks puffed at that, like they always did when he irritated her with something she couldn’t think of a retort to. He took the opportunity to enjoy a moment of silence before speaking to her. 

“We will look for a hospital here. Later. I’ve had e-fucking- nough of hospitals for the time being. We’ll see if we can find someone who can get rid of the blasted thing.” 

Ah, well--

“Otherwise, we can go back to your planet and have it done.”

“Earth? Why?”

“How many damned Earthlings do you think are here running around in space?”

“I--” Her voice trailed off, admitting to him that she hadn’t thought about it before. That there weren’t any experts on her species. A moronic thing, especially for a woman with such intelligence. His eyes rolled. 

“You can think on that. Not now.” It wasn’t as if it was going to be born immediately. She stayed quiet, so that seemed to have calmed her. Or at least, gave her something to think about. 

He at least made an effort to continue to walk slower. He glanced back at her again, this time to find her hopelessly lost in thought. She was going to run into something again if she weren’t careful. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. He’d just go find an outpost to get their next mission to get some money, and then go find an inn to relax at so she could find somewhere to sit and not accidentally run into anything.

.

.

.

* * *

**Her POV**

If her legs had not still felt so numb, maybe they would hurt by now. She could feel her muscles had already tensed up again from all the walking they were doing, though not to the point of being paralyzed again. Still, she couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion that if she were to sit down, she might not be able to get back up again.

It just so happened that it was when she dwelled on it, that Vegeta spoke up and pointed to a bench beside a building’s entrance. 

“Sit,” he commanded. He didn’t say a name, and though it pissed  Bulma off to just so casually listen to his obnoxious demands like that, she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to let her legs rest. Even if it meant not being able to get back up again. She sat down, and Raditz dropped down beside her, instantly getting himself comfortable by stretching his arms out across the back of the bench.

She, meanwhile, leaned forward to start massaging her legs best she could. At least she had continued to gain strength in her fingers.

“I’m surprised you can move anything at all. You were out so goddamn long I figured you’d end up just dying in there or something.”

She turned her head up to look at Raditz, who tilted his head as he met her gaze. 

“You  shoulda seen it, your limbs were black. I saw you like... Once. Vegeta only let me once. Not that I cared. I’m not ending up like Nappa. Hah, Nappa woulda thrown a fit...” 

“Black?!” And she’d been horrified at her limbs being red. She rubbed her leg a little softer, finding newfound respect for her body. How the hell had she managed to come out of that one? “I-- I’m surprised I didn’t just miscarry.”

“Well, it is a Saiyan. Or half-Saiyan, I guess.” He rubbed his chin. “The little brat with  Kakarot had a tail and seemed fairly strong too, so it’s safe to say it runs in our genes.” 

That reminded her. Raditz had a family. He knew who his brother  was. Goku... 

“Goku never said he had a brother. He only knew his grandpa, who raised him. How do you know he’s Kakarot?” 

It seemed like she might have hit a nerve. Raditz looked down at her with a slight frown, rather than answering right away. What was that look in his eye? For a moment, he looked... Pitiful, almost.

“I remember our parents. He looks like the spitting image of our dad. And I remember him looking about the same when he was little, too. Not that I really saw him much. I had missions to do, and when  Saiyans are that little, we just shove them in a tube to continue gestating.” 

“Eh? Tubes?”

“Huh? Yeah. You think  Saiyans can waste time carrying for something that just shits itself nonstop and eats so much?”

...Huh. She supposed that made sense. Her brows knit in thought. Goku was a test-tube baby, in a way. Interesting.

“Anyway, I was little when I was away with Vegeta on a mission, and I got the message that my brother got dropped off here to keep him safe. I  dunno how they knew, but my parents knew that our planet was  gonna die out. I just never bothered to check on him until—Well.” They exchanged looks again. How chilling, that Earth was always living on borrowed time with Goku there. It wasn’t a thought she wanted to dwell on.

“Do  Saiyans get married? You had a mom and a dad? No one’s ever talked to me about female Saiyans.”

“Uh, not married, really,” Raditz spit out uncomfortably. One of his arms fell from the side of the bench to his lap. “My parents were weird. Having a mate is rare between Saiyans. They porked each other plenty, sure. But they don’t have a mate. But my parents... Cared about each other. A lot of Saiyans don’t care a lot about anything. And will get angry if other Saiyans care about things. Take Nappa as your usual Saiyan.”

...Oh. Something clicked. He’d always been a horrible person, just like all three of the  Saiyans were—but he wasn’t as horrible as Nappa. And he never seemed to care all that much about Vegeta keeping her around, either. ...Up to a point.

“If you’re used to that stuff,”  Bulma asked, her brows furrowing as she sat straighter, “How come you went with Nappa to get us killed?”

“Listen, I was just doing whatever I thought would lead to me being less likely to die. You’re not my mate, I don’t have to care if you live or die. … Though I guess maybe that’s up for debate if you’re having that whelp.”

“I’m not,” she insisted. He shrugged.

“No skin off my back.”

She stared back at him for a second, trying to think up a response to him when Vegeta came bursting from the entrance of the building, catching both their attention.

“Follow. We’re getting somewhere to sleep next,” he commanded. 

The same as usual. She exchanged a glance with Raditz and followed his lead to get up on her feet—though she was much slower about it than the Saiyan. Once she’d stood straight, she noticed Vegeta had stopped to wait for her, albeit with a frown on his face. Raditz’s conversation lingered in her ears.

Though at the same time, she neglected to complain about just how weak her legs really felt, lest he decide he was going to drag her around like he was doing before. 

“I’m coming,” she huffed instead, ignoring the ache in her legs as she forced them to move again. 

Her only blessing is that it didn’t take all too long to get to where Vegeta led them to. And the exchange of money, a room key, and the short trip down the hall to their room couldn’t come fast enough.

The first thing she’d done once they had taken step into their next hotel room, was immediately flop down on the first mattress. It jiggled underneath her; a waterbed, it seemed. Or something close to it. And part of a bunk-bed, set, with another mattress looming over her, though the sizes were much larger than the twin-sized mattresses that bunk beds usually supported on Earth. She shoved her head into the pillow—that jiggled in the same way, absurdly enough—and promised herself she wasn’t going to be moving for at least a few hours.

And then her stomach immediately growled. 

When had been the last time she even ate? She furrowed her brows, and peeked out from the pillow to look at Vegeta. 

"Room service.”

.

.

.

* * *

**His POV**

She had more of an appetite than usual. 

She’d gone from one leg of meat to the next without thinking about it. She was still not eating as much as he would consider healthy, but the more Vegeta watched  Bulma as she took more and more bites of her food, the more certain he was that her appetite had increased from the dainty, pathetic nibbles she usually took. She seemed ravenous in comparison, on her second plate of food. But she hadn’t seemed to notice, only remarking that it tasted good.

She shouldn’t be too hungry; even though they had been in the pod for quite a while, she’d been in that healing chamber that theoretically should have provided her with all the sustenance she needed. That  _ she  _ needed—not necessarily what something else needed. A pregnant Saiyan woman—a biological Saiyan woman, that is—would be able to have enough energy to sustain both herself and a baby. A human woman, meanwhile, working with her usual capacity and a Saiyan child’s appetite...

“Stop staring at me,” She scoffed at him, her eyes flicking up at him for only a moment before they returned to her plate. His cheeks flared red. That blasted woman. She probably hadn’t even noticed it, had she? He had the instinct to rip food from her plate, but a nagging in the back of his head begged him not to. His fingers twitched, and grabbed another stack of ribs from the food cart, and dug into it.

He shouldn’t care. She said she didn’t want it anyway, and it made sense why. If this was already the appetite she had, and if her strength didn’t continue to improve from that pathetic waddle she’d been doing on her way to the hotel, they could be in for a months-long headache. And for what? Some brat at the end of it? More of a headache.

He resisted the urge to glare at her in thought, resenting the idea of her chastising him again.

Instead, she was the one to speak up.

“There’s one more of those-- ...What are they? They look like potatoes. Those red things. Do you want it?”

She had told him to not stare at her only a moment ago, but it was hard to resist. She was finishing off food? He hadn’t the slightest clue what a potato was, but the ‘red thing’ she was pointing too— Clearly she wanted it. Why hadn’t she just taken it? Silly woman. He grabbed it, and after relishing in the immediate gaze of disappointment that passed over her eyes, he reached across from where he was sitting to place it onto the plate resting on her lap.

“I would have liked it,” Raditz mumbled from his place on the floor, resting on his side as he shoved a couple more dumplings into his mouth. Vegeta responded with a kick to his head just hard enough to make him spit out his food. He rubbed his cheek sorely, but didn’t make another whine.

“Eat as much as you wish,” Vegeta mumbled at  Bulma . He could feel her gaze burning into his skin, even as he avoided it. 

And after she’d finished that second plate, including that potato, she seemed finally full. Nowhere near the amount that Vegeta and Raditz ate, however- cementing his thought that pregnancy was probably more of a liability than anything. She set her empty plate on the food cart, wiped off the crumbs from her bed, and rolled over with her face to the wall to rest. 

“You’re already sleeping?” Raditz scoffed loudly through a mouthful of food. “You didn’t sleep enough in that damn container?” 

Vegeta’s gaze didn’t leave her figure. Raditz himself had said it easily enough, without noticing what he was saying. She had essentially just found out she was pregnant, and it seemed to be taking a toll. How many of her previous problems had been due to the pregnancy? He couldn’t argue—It was in her best interest to get rid of the thing in her stomach. It was essentially a parasite, after all.

By the time the food had all been devoured, he could hear her softly snoring. 

“There’s bound to be some good bars here, there always are on this side of the galaxy,” Raditz spoke, taking Vegeta from his focus on the woman. “Wanna go look for some?”

“Do I need to be your babysitter now?” Raditz shrugged at that, and took his leave. All that remained was himself and the gentle breaths of the woman. And the barely-there  ki of the little parasite inside of her. 

Instead, he paced around. It felt as if he were at that hospital all over again. Pacing, waiting for her anxiously. Eventually, he’d found the crude idea to clean the room. The dishes and bones were thrown onto the food cart, which was shoved out the door for someone to pick up. He didn’t bother cleaning the blood and crumbs, though when he found her still sleeping at the end of all that, he convinced himself it would be fine to take a shower. Despite his eyes not being locked on her, he could still feel the two soft little balls of  ki that emanated from them as he stepped into the bathroom, peeled off his clothes, and into the oversized shower. 

He stood in the cold water as it fell from the shower’s ceiling for quite some time. As much as he avoided thinking of it, the little brat  Kakarot had still rose to his mind. That little thing. Would it have looked like that, or would it have had  Bulma’s deep-ocean eyes? Maybe not. There weren’t any  Saiyans he could remember that had blue eyes. 

Not that he could remember very much of his home planet anymore. 

The shower seemed to only succeed in having him think more, rather than less. He’d soaped himself up and rinsed off as quickly as possible and turned off the water. He grabbed a towel and haphazardly cleaned himself off and tied it around his waist. Bulma always seemed to have a problem with them going around nude.

He stepped back out into the room and confirmed her still laying there, though she’d rolled over onto her back. He finally noticed she’d never pulled the covers over herself. He reached down, and just as he began to tug the blanket from under her, she shifted and groaned. Softly, she spoke to him.

“My legs hurt,” she whined, so quietly he barely heard her. Was she awake and telling him that through grogginess, or was she completely passed out and sleep-talking? Either way, he let go of the sheets and sat on the bed at her feet, grumbling at the way the bed jostled under his weight. He grasped her leg and set it onto his lap, and with his hands heating up, he began  to massage.

She let out a soft sigh, and he continued. He moved to the next leg. Halfway through that, slowly running his fingers up and down her leg and taking quiet note of the way her toes just barely wiggled, the door burst open. 

Raditz stumbled in drunk—though he was at least by himself. Though judging by the way his clothes and hair were messed up, chances are the man had his fill in some alleyway. The door was slammed behind him, and in some amount of pathetic, swinging motions, the Saiyan clambered up the bunk bed to rest above him. He shook the bed wildly as it happened, and even once he’d settled, both  Bulma and Vegeta’s bodies were left swaying from the movement of the mattress. He scowled to see  Bulma rubbing her face. She’d woken up.

He let go of her leg, and just as Raditz began to loudly snore, she sat up just enough to look at Vegeta. And then she shifted. A space beside her was made on the bed—though it was certainly big enough to not require it—and she tapped it. He frowned, and looked away at first. The bed he’d been sitting on while they hate still had a pool of blood and sauce. He gave in, and pulled himself up to lay beside her in the space she made for him.

“My legs feel better now, thanks,” she whispered to him. Vegeta could feel his cheeks flaring up again, only succeeding in frustrating him. The mattress swayed again as she shifted her weight, this time so she could roll on her side. Instinctively, he rolled to match her. Her legs tangled with his. The towel around his waist was thick, but the weight of her backside leaning into his pelvis got a rise out of him. Still, he kept quiet and resisted bothering her. How many times had he made her cry from pushing himself on her? He draped his arm over her, and squeezed his eyes shut. His face was buried into her hair. It smelled like healing water, but underneath, still had the sweet scent that seemed to stick with her wherever she went.

As he tried to  will himself into sleep despite not being the slightest bit tired, he could feel her soft fingers slide along his arm. Her hand hooked at his wrist, holding it firmly. He felt that uncomfortable warmth in his chest come back, and was left struggling between whether or not to leave. Her foot ran up and down his leg, leaving goosebumps along his skin and raising the hair at the base of his tail. He decided he’d stay. Sleep alluded him, but he stayed. It seemed the same for her, given her  ki never lessened, her breathing never softened, and her foot never stopped tickling his leg.

Some time into them being tangled with each other, Raditz’s snoring was interrupted by a snort. It kept him quiet for a while, and that’s when  Bulma stopped moving her foot down his leg. For a moment Vegeta had thought she’d fallen asleep, but then her hips shifted against him. He let out a breath, and any thought that it was a mistake was thrown out the window with her quiet laugh. He frowned, and his nose twitched as she slowly slid her hips against him again. He should have punished her. He should teach her a lesson by pinning her down in the way he used to. But he didn’t want tears. His lips brushed her neck, and he nearly debated just giving her a bite—but instead, his tongue came out and ran along her soft, cold skin. He relished in her equally breathy response. 

She’d acted like this before, too. On that planet where they were alone together. It was impossible to deduce what was going through her brain, why she’d push him away so often only to let him back in again. Maybe she was struggling as much with it as he was. Both uncomfortable with the idea of being around her and the idea of being without her. Maybe they were more alike than he realized. His hand snaked back from her grip, only to take the zipper at the back of her neck and slide it downward. She was breathing harder, as she pulled her arms free of the suit. He reached his arm around and gripped one of her breasts, warm to the touch. Her nipples were already hard.  Bulma’s hand came up to meet his, setting softly over him. But just as soon as their hands had touched, he pulled away, instead letting his palm slide over her body. He slid his fingers under the suit as it still hung to her pelvis, over the bunch of hair between her legs. As soft as the rest of her. She let out a louder whimper as he cupped her rather than giving her the satisfaction of slipping his fingers between her lips. Raditz began to snore again. 

Vegeta’s thumb ran again over her hair, and rather than give her any satisfaction, he switched to sliding the suit down her thighs. He stopped when her ass was free, but just as he began to take his hands away, she spoke to him again.

“I want to be able to look at you.” 

He hesitated, feeling his cheeks flare up again. Why was it that blasted woman always knew how to say such embarrassing things? Sat up and loomed over her, and she rolled to her back again. It felt like her eyes could glow in the dark, with how visible they were in the moonlight. Those damned blue eyes of hers. He pulled her legs up against him and tugged the suit off of her. It was thrown to the side, and as the mattress jostled their bodies, her breasts bounced softly. 

“Let’s be quiet,” she whispered to him. What, because Raditz was asleep? Another thing she cared too much about. But... He obliged. He spread her legs on either side of him and pulled his towel off. She put one of her little hands on her chest as her breasts bounced with him shifting closer to her. Her skin was still red, he realized, though not as much so as before. More of a faded pink. It contrasted her hair and eyes, and matched her lips. 

He slid his cock along between her legs to start with, rolling his hips as softly as possible. She obliged with her other hand spreading her lips to better welcome him as he rocked along her clit. One of his hands grabbed her thigh as the other tried to find balance by resting beside her head. Her eyes fluttered closed, but her lips had parted. He always liked her when she was like this. He supposed maybe the word would be... Cute. Cute, with her pink cheeks. Her eyes opened to catch him staring again, and that flustered feeling that rose in his chest started all over again.

He looked away, and her hand in turn reached out. She held him softly, so softly it brought his eyes back up to stare into hers. Sometimes, he could swear this strange, genius Earth woman was a witch in disguise.

He leaned his hips back and repositioned himself, only tearing his gaze away to see what he was doing. She helped him by spreading her legs apart wider. Her other hand slide from his cheek to resting at the back of his neck.

“Go softly. I still don’t feel... One hundred percent,” she whispered. He’d like to argue with her, to do whatever he liked just because the idea of doing what she wanted bothered him. And yet all the same, he only slowly pushed his hips forward to lead himself into her. 

She murmured again, this time something of a hum, as he got down onto his elbows. Just like she requested, he was soft. Going back and forth, aided by the gentle swing of the mattress to keep his stride without going faster. Fighting against him with forced when he started to pick up the pace. With no springs, the bed stayed quiet, too, leaving the only noise as Raditz’s snoring, and both of their breathing- and every time  Bulma whined or gasped. It was cute, every time she did it. She would squint, as if she were tempted to close her eyes but was resisting it. As if she wanted to keep looking at him. His chest burned every time she did it. He leaned down just a bit closer each time, until their bodies pressed together and he could feel her breasts moving against his skin. 

That’s when he felt the urge to... What had she called it? He couldn’t remember. He just acted, pressing his lips to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [insert suggestive emoji here]
> 
> I got a good vibe going with this chapter. It's longer than the others have been lately. Wrote most of it in one sitting, even.  
> I feel that this is a sort of turning point for Vegeta. Where he starts to realize that they've met this middle-ground.


	24. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta get closer.  
> Some people from the past return.

**Her POV**

She could still hear Raditz snoring. She, however, was not sleeping as well, especially after having slept so long just an hour or so ago. On top of that, her limbs were throbbing again. Begging to be moved. She shifted to sit up, and glanced down at Vegeta. The man looked like he was sleeping, but it was always impossible to tell. He had a way of staying partially conscious or something. That, or woke up to the slightest movement. Or he never slept at all, and only pretended to. Not like she could understand how these stupid aliens worked.

She carefully slid across him to get off the bed and dragged herself to the bathroom. She checked one last time before she shut the door- nope, he wasn’t moving. He’d been leaving her well enough alone recently, but in the back of her mind she couldn’t help but feel cautious that she’d turn around and see that he was watching her bathe. 

After using the restroom, she stepped just far enough into the shower to turn the water on, purposely staying out of the way of the stream. The water landed at her feet, the same as water did most other places, without scalding her skin. She stepped into the  stream and let her head drop, enjoying the warmth filling her body. Her stomach gargled. She was hungry again? Even after everything she ate? 

She rubbed her face irritably, but went through the motions of cleaning herself off with soap and shampoo, wondering quietly to herself how bad she had smelled before doing so; the  Saiyans didn’t seem to mind disgusting smells, but she hadn’t showered since she’d been hospitalized, after all. Or even  _ changed clothes. _

…

She hadn’t brought any clothes with her.

Her brows furrowed at the realization. All she had was that suit. She had capsules in her pod, sure, but she’d been so busy being angry at Vegeta that she’d forgotten to bring them. They were all just sitting in the damn pod. She supposed she could go get them, but... On top of her having her fill of close run-ins recently, it wasn’t as if she were in a situation to move fast. Which meant she had no choice but to wake up Vegeta, because she wasn’t going back to bed and she sure as hell wasn’t just going to walk around all this time in that damn suit.

She finished up her shower, dried herself off, brushed her hair, and with a towel wrapped around herself, stepped back out into the bedroom. She squinted as her eyes failed to adjust to the darkness once she’d turned off the bathroom light. To move, she slowly shifted her feet along the hard floor until they reached the suit she’d left lying right beside the bed. Raditz’s snores assured her that he was still passed out and not peeping on her.

She sniffed the suit first. It didn’t smell too bad; the pungent sterile smell from the water she’d been submerged in overwhelmed any scent of body odor. Still, she wasn’t happy about putting it on. Not that she had an option for now. She did her best to drape the towel around herself as she pulled it onto herself, and once she’d managed to zip it up and suction it back onto her body, she glanced down at Vegeta.

Her eyes had adjusted by then; she could see him lying there, not a care in the world that he was nude. Sometimes it was a surprise that  Saiyans ever wore any clothes at all, given he didn’t seem to mind either way and that when they did wear clothes, it was more or less just a pair of underwear. 

“Vegeta,” she spoke. “I want to go get my clothes. And walk around for a little while.”

He didn’t answer. She frowned. Some part of her wanted to just leave, knowing he would follow. But in the off chance he might actually be fully asleep for once in his life, she reached down and poked his cheek. Just as her finger barely brushed his skin, he grabbed her hand.

“You need to get dressed,” she told him. In the darkness, she could see his eyes had opened. He was scowling, as usual. It looked as if he had something to say, but he stayed quiet. Maybe his pride wanted to make him tell her to go do stuff herself. But the both of them knew that he wouldn’t allow that for long. Even if she wanted to be alone, he’d inevitably have followed.

He let go of her, and she retrieved her hand and rubbed it—he'd had a harder grasp than he might have intended. She could only expect so much. He’d already been so surprisingly gentle with her the whole way through sex. And even kissed her. 

As he rubbed his face and pulled himself out of bed, she spared him no courtesy. She went right out the door, expecting him to catch up. Hadn’t he done just the same to her at the arrival of this stupid planet? She could have a little petty glimpse of revenge. She could hear his footsteps by the time she was at the end of the hall. Not that that was too impressive; she was moving slow, still hobbled by her limbs.

Bulma pushed the front door open, and welcomed the smell of the fresh air. Vegeta grabbed the door behind her, and gave her a push forward. A gentle one. She glanced back at him to give him a look for rushing her. In the light of the stars, she could see the bags under his eyes. Had he really been sleeping? For once, he actually seemed tired. 

Without intending to, she snorted, and then let out a full laugh.

“What.”

“Ah? You just--” She turned her head from him as she smiled, looking away from him. “You just look cute. Your hair’s all messy.” She glanced back just quick enough to see him reach one of his hands up to run his fingers through his pointed hair. Hah. She snorted, and started off in the direction they’d come from.

“Do you know where the pods are? I was busy following you,” she spoke, catching a glimpse of him over her shoulder. “I don’t remember where--”

“Follow me,” he cut her off with his gruff voice, and walked right passed her. She thought it would be the start of having to struggle to follow him again, but once he was a few steps ahead, he looked back at her and matched her pace. 

She stared at his back in quiet for a while, as they walked. He’d been sweet recently. Did he feel apologetic, or was it just because she was pregnant...? Maybe a mixture of both. What went on in that mind of his? She couldn’t help but wonder about it. He could be so hot and cold to her. And so many times, she’d look into his eyes and could tangibly see him working something out in his head. Maybe if she could hear his thoughts, she could get to understand him just a little bit more. They could understand each other a bit more. God knew he wasn’t one for talking out his thoughts.

She reached her hand forward and brushed his wrist, before taking grasp of his hand. She half-expected him to jerk away from her, but he didn’t. He looked down at their hands, but he didn’t move. Emboldened, she cleared the few steps between them and switched her grasp to more comfortably hold onto him. He didn’t react at first, but as they walked, he slowly gripped her fingers back. 

Would he be doing this if Raditz was with them? Certainly not Nappa, right? 

She turned her head and let him take her along without worry. He kept the pace she set, and so her limbs felt more that they were getting a comfortable stretch than the workout from last time. Comfortable enough that she could just take in the sights, watch faces as they passed.

“There’s a lot of people with tentacles here,” she spoke. He grunted in response, more of an acknowledgement than anything else. It was made clear exactly the predicament they were in, just viewing the crowd. Very little people that resembled anything that could be described as mammalian, much less anyone who looked close to her or Vegeta. Except--

She squinted at the sight of a blonde crown of hair on top of a pale head. That person looked humanoid.

Actually... That person looked like--

Her hand fell from Vegeta’s grip. She could hear the faint steps of him continuing to walk away, but paid no mind to whether or not he turned to wait for her. The woman was staring back at her, with those same big eyes. Well, not exactly the same. She had their mom’s look.

“ Bulma !” Tights broke out into a grin and ran toward her, pushing a few people out her way to get close enough to bury  Bulma in her embrace, while the short purple alien that became all too familiar visibly tensed up.

“Tights,”  Bulma gasped, still processing. Her sister. Her sister? Of—Of all the places. Of all the times. “Tights?!”

“When’s the last time I’ve seen you? So long. So long! We’ve been looking for you, you know! Jaco’s helped. We did actually see you at this other planet, we were trying to figure out how to approach you. What a coincidence! Good thing we caught you when we did. Yamcha is going to--”

“Yamcha?”

“And Krillin. Everyone got ahold of me, since I’ve got the connections with that shorty over there.” She jerked a thumb back over her shoulder to point at Jaco, who tensed up again after having been caught sneaking halfway down the street.

“Ah-- Hold on,”  Bulma gasped. She leaned back and shook her head. Her mind was reeling. She could feel her temple throbbing. As if she didn’t have enough to deal with. Her sister...? And--- And! She snapped her head to look to Vegeta.

Who was... Calmly watching her, from a few feet  away.

“ Bulma .  Bulma , you have to come back. You don’t have to stay at the Capsule Corporation if you don’t want to. You can be with me. We could go wherever you wanted. We could go with Jaco and take a trip around the galaxy! But you can’t just--”  Bulma looked up when she went silent, and realized Tights was looking at him, too.

“Someone that looks like an Earthling but has a tail like a monkey. He’s one of the  Saiyans , right? You don’t have to be around him, you know. Just come with me. I’m your older sister, you don’t think I’d be able to keep you safe?”

“I--” She blinked a few times at Tights, as if she’d open her eyes again and find she was just a figment of her imagination. But no. This was her sister, standing in front of her and still gripping her by the biceps.

“I’m pregnant,” She spat, without even thinking. What else was there to say? She couldn’t go back. But she’d never listen. 

Tights stared back at her. The sisters stayed silent for a few beats, and finally, just as Tights began to try and form a question, someone yelled  Bulma’s name. Her eyes flicked over her sister’s shoulder to see Krillin and  Yamcha running out from some restaurant at the other end of the street. Oh, oh no. 

It happened fast. As soon as Tights let go of her to look back at Yamcha, he’d grabbed her by the arm. 

“Why did you leave?! I don’t care if you don’t want me around if you don’t want to live with your parents, but you can’t just go with--”

“Let go of me!”  Bulma snapped, trying to free her arms and only succeeding in him tightening his grip.

“ Yamcha , she’s pregnant!” 

“What?!”  Yamcha and Krillin both yelled at once.  Yamcha’s grip on her arm tightened, at  Bulma yelled in pain. And in a single second, Vegeta’s fist collided with  Yamcha’s jaw. He hit the ground with a bang, but stumbled up to his feet fast enough. 

Bulma didn’t waste time to see what else was going to happen between the two of them. She stumbled back, and then took off running. It was surprising how fast her legs could carry her even in the state they were in, with enough adrenaline. She ran at least a block before finally tripping and falling. She pulled herself against a building and rested there, and swore between gasps for air to find that her suit had ripped around her knees, showing fresh blood where she’d scuffed her skin.

“ Bulma ,” Tights gasped. She tensed. Her sister had followed her. Her sister leaned over to catch her breath, and shook her  head. “Jesus . Have you built muscle, running around with them all this time? Or maybe I’m just starting to get old.”

Bulma stayed silent, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t leave. She couldn’t go back. Why was it so hard for everyone to understand? Nobody ever bothered Goku when he decided to run off. Wasn’t she her own person, too?

At the very least, Tights didn’t try to grab her and drag her away. Instead, she dropped down beside her, still panting.

“Pregnant women shouldn’t run like that,” she said with a laugh. “You should be careful. ... Unless you never planned on keeping it.”

“...Ah.” How did she always know?  Bulma’s brows wrinkled, and Tights laughed again.

“You just said it to come up with an excuse?”

“...Yeah,”  Bulma admitted, pressing her hands to her bleeding knees. “I didn’t know what else to say. Since you guys just won’t understand. It’s too—I don’t like feeling like everything’s back to normal.”

Tights frowned.  Bulma avoided her gaze.

“Mom and dad don’t actually care, you know. Or. They do. You know how it is. They told  Yamcha not to bother. I think it’s more likely that that ex and his friends don’t understand. I haven’t been home since I was... What? Sixteen or something?”

Bulma perked up, finally making eye contact. That’s when it occurred to her that it seemed this was the first time someone wasn’t telling her to do something, since she’d brought Earth back.

“None of us cared when you went out to go look for the dragon balls the first time, either.”

“Why did you come looking for me, then?”

“I mean.  Yamcha made it sound like you were kidnapped. And they are the guys that destroyed the planet in the first place.” Tights shoved a hand in her pocket, and after fishing around, produced a device. “Here. It’s like a cellphone. We can send messages. That’s how Jaco and I have stayed in contact. I won’t tell anyone else about it, you can just talk to me. Just in case something happens, okay?”

She hesitated, but ultimately grabbed the device. It did look quite a lot like a cellphone, but much thicker. And some sort of infrared sensor at the top of it. Huh. Maybe she could take it apart some time.

“What are you going to tell them to make them stop looking for me?”

“Probably that you agreed to come with me,” Tights shrugged. She elbowed Bulma, and pointed into the crowd of people walking. Jaco thought he’d sneaked away from everything. Bulma snorted.

“COWARD!” Tights screamed. Jaco flinched and looked in their direction, and without even hesitating, shook his head and turned the complete other direction from them. “Do you need anything? No offense, your clothes stink.”

“I’m still stocked up. I just—It’s a long story. I have clothes,” she grumbled back, rubbing her temples. “I was just about to go grab the capsules I left in my pod, before you caught me.”

“Well, you better go get them, then. I’ll go run and explain things to that idiot, before he gets killed. Unless you want me to stay with you? It’s pretty safe here. The galactic police have a headquarters here.” 

“Oh. I’m... I think I’m okay, then.” She’d no clue. Given the sort of life that she had led thanks to the  Saiyans , it hadn’t occurred to her that there was a part of space that wasn’t so dangerous. Especially given the fact she’d been on the receiving end of the law already. 

“Okay. Keep that phone with you. Remember that you’re not alone! Even if you don’t want to rely on those idiots, even if you want to go find yourself. You have family. We’ll support you no matter what you want to do. Just keep me posted.”

And there she went. Tights jumped up to her feet and jogged back the other way, leaving  Bulma in the street with a new sense of... Acceptance. 

There used to be a time where she was angry about how permissive her eccentric family was. But for once, it felt like someone was at least trying to understand where she was coming from. She placed her palm over her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Bulma-centric chapter. I'm thinking next chapter it'll be Vegeta-centric.  
> I'm going to be honest, I've been writing and posting for years and up until last Summer, I was just posting roleplays that were written months, often years in the past. I cannot remember if I introduced Tights before. But uh. If I did.... Well.


	25. Difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta deals with Yamcha, and Bulma gets her change of clothes.

**His POV**

* * *

It was pathetic, how that sniveling Earthling thought he could take him on. Every time Vegeta punched him, he got back up again until the little bald one could restrain him. 

“You’re going  to get yourself killed!”

As if. He knew better than to kill another person  Bulma cared about. Even if it was stupid of her to care about this fool. 

SPLAT.

A gob of spit smacked him on the side of his face. Vegeta raised a hand, wiping the glob off his face with a rough swipe. He’d spit on him. That dumb bastard, still being held back by the armpits by that fucking midget and bleeding from the nose and one eye, had spit on him. Vegeta could hear his jaw pop as it tightened.

He wanted to kill him so bad. The bastard was so fucking lucky that Bulma...

Where was  Bulma ? It only struck him then that she’d run away. Not just a few steps. Her  ki wasn’t in their immediate sphere. He snapped his head around, and just as some ounce of panic and rage set in, that other woman was running back from behind some buildings.  Bulma’s sister, it seemed? 

She had some long-lost sibling as well, apparently. No different than himself and  Tarble . He scowled as the woman approached, looking winded. And he became all the more apprehensive when he realized that galactic patrol buffoon was also missing. 

“Where is Bul--” 

_ “She’s fine,”  _ Bulma's sister cut off both Yamcha and Vegeta, who had echoed each other. Vegeta glanced back at Yamcha to shoot him a glare, ever angrier to see the man doing the same. The woman spoke up again, drawing their attention.

“I talked to her. She just--” Her dark eyes were stuck on Vegeta’s. He knew that nervousness. He’d seen it before in a million other women. But she smiled at him, and shrugged her shoulders dramatically. “She just wants to be away for a while!”

“What,” Vegeta spat.  Yamcha echoed it, but much louder, and whinier. Tsk. Maybe he should at least rip his tongue out. Maybe he’d leave too fast for  Bulma to notice or hear about it. It wouldn’t be hurting him THAT much...

“She said that she knows just going around the galaxy is dangerous, so she wants to be with me and Jaco! Since, you know. The Galactic Patrol, she’ll be safe and all...”

Her eyes occasionally flicked over to  Yamcha , but mainly remained on him. She was lying. It was obvious all over. She was terrified, and if she was that scared, she wouldn’t have another galactic patrolman around? He could feel anyone with particularly strong in their immediate vicinity. But what the fuck was she lying about? When he focused, he could feel  Bulma’s ki , and the  ki with her. She seemed fine.

“As long as she’s not with  _ them _ ,”  Yamcha had growled under his breath. It went ignored by Vegeta, who instead rose into the air and followed the trace of the  ki . That sister of hers yelled out after him, but it went wholly ignored. Until  Yamcha appeared in front of him.

Could those idiots fly before? When did that start? 

“Don’t fucking think about following her.” Vegeta’s nose twitched at  Yamcha’s words. He knew killing him would be trouble with  Bulma , but this man had to be taught a lesson, apparently. 

He shot his hand out and grabbed  Yamcha by the jaw. His other hand jerked forward and grabbed his throat. There was commotion under them—some pathetic cries from  Bulma’s relative and that little midget—and he was all too  acutely aware of some sirens. Were the Galactic Patrol finally doing something for once? This was one of their hubs. Took them long enough. It didn’t matter. This wouldn’t take long.

“Listen to me, you pathetic little weakling. You don’t tell me what to do. The only thing stopping me from killing you is  Bulma .” The anger in the Earthling’s squinting eyes, the rage in his gasps of air filled Vegeta with pure giddiness. It’d been too long since he’d gotten in a fight that hadn’t just made him furious. Too bad he couldn’t truly beat him to a pit. He was likely already pushing it with the smear of red across the center of the manga’s face from where his eye and nose had gushed blood. 

“I’d kill you if given the chance. But  Bulma stupidly wants you and the rest of her planet untouched.  So I’m sparing your measly little life. But don’t you ever think you can stop me from doing jack shit. That goes doubly so for the blonde down there. I don’t give a fuck what she says. Now stay the fuck out of my way.” He could throw the man into the ground. Maybe knock him out, just to ensure he wouldn’t follow. Instead, however, Vegeta reluctantly listened to the voice of a certain annoying, pregnant Earthling in the back of his head and instead just tossed him aside light enough for him to catch himself mid-flight.

That seemed to knock some sense into the moron. Vegeta didn’t bother to look back at him, but he didn’t get in his way again as Vegeta followed  Bulma’s ki . It only took a moment to catch up with her; walking by herself in a crowd of people.  So she was safe. Then what had that sister of hers been lying so clearly about? ...That she wouldn’t touring the galaxy with her?

He touched down beside Bulma. He resisted letting his face even twitch in amusement when she gave a jump upon noticing he’d appeared next to her. 

“Your sister says you’re staying with her.”

“Ah?”  Bulma didn’t stop walking, but her pace didn’t get any faster. She seemed relaxed enough. Not that he’d stop her, if it was what she wanted. But she’d begged him to let come with him rather than leave her on Earth in the first place, hadn’t she? 

Then she cracked a smile. His brows furrowed.

“That’s meant for Yamcha. I didn’t think she’d tell that to you, too. It’s so he doesn’t worry about me anymore.”

“Your sister is a bad liar. She was sweating bullets just looking in my direction.”

“You probably scared her.” ...He supposed that was a possibility. Earthlings were so weak they were right to be terrified of someone like him. She was lucky that she was blood related to Bulma, or he wouldn’t have sparred at least tossing her out of the way with her nonsense.

“I was talking to her, and she told me that I should be able to do what I want,”  Bulma explained. She had to be dolt to do something like that? An odd concept. He raised his brow but didn’t bother her further. That was something she could work out herself. God knew the last thing he needed was her to start crying again, over something Vegeta couldn’t possibly hope to relate to. “I haven’t seen her in a long time. It’s nice to be reminded I have family that understands.”

He was at once reminded of  Tarble . Where was that man now? Was he alive? Or long dead? He knit his brows. He’d been thinking a lot of him as of recent, hadn’t he?

“We’re going the wrong way,” Vegeta blurted, partially just avoiding these horrific thoughts. When  Bulma blinked in surprise, he realized she’d been touching her stomach. ...Hm. He tried not to think too deeply about it as he grabbed her arm and tugged her in the proper direction of the pods, all the while keeping careful attention on the  ki of  Yamcha and those other idiots. They at least didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Whatever the hell  Bulma and her sister had plotted out, perhaps it had worked. 

“He’s a fool for just letting you go as you please,” he admitted, without even realizing he was talking. Saiyan women always did as they pleased, from what he remembered and what Nappa would say. But that didn’t mean letting one’s mate run off with another wasn’t something even Vegeta could understand as an embarrassing thing. He was a cuckold, nothing but.

“He just doesn’t understand,”  Bulma replied. “The same with Krillin. And probably the others, if they’re looking like this for me. It feels wrong being in the same room as them anymore. I’m different.”

“You’re a Saiyan.”

That made her frown. Why? It was the truth. They’d done a ritual to show it. Her hair was only just beginning to change to its more natural blue after the way her hair had been dyed by the blood.

She didn’t say anything else after that, but she was holding her stomach again. He caught the behavior a few more times. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he knew he didn’t like the feeling it left in the pit of his stomach. That stupid warm feeling. He got them to the pods as quickly as possible, and only once she was able to open her pod and start rifling through it – with careful watch from Vegeta so she wouldn’t fall like she nearly did last time—did he finally feel some form of relief. As long as he avoided thinking about it.

It was fine. She’d be rid of it long enough. Even though that itself also made him feel far more uncomfortable than he liked to admit.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he should regret keeping her around. Dwelling too long on that idea made him bristle, but all the same... Things had been far  more simple . There were no conflicting thoughts in his head before  Bulma . It was only after she had been brought into his life, did he start to wonder about things. What he should think about her. Himself. What it meant to be a Saiyan. The idea of such a weak species holding any amount of value.

He blew a gust of air out his nose and scanned the center, his eyes landing on that little galactic patrolman that had been stalking around before. He seemed to not have noticed them, and all the same, looked to be trying to hide more than anything else. Hn.

She emerged from the pod, and rather than wait until they got back to the hotel, she threw one of her capsules out onto the pathway. Out of it appeared a dresser, and in moments flat,  Bulma was digging through it. 

“You’re going to dress here?” Vegeta asked. Not that he cared, but the woman always seemed so obsessed with hiding her body. Or at least, the most vulnerable bits of it. She didn’t seem have any problem showing as much skin as possible beside that.

“I’m going to change in the pod. I’m tired of this disgusting suit. You just keep watch to make sure no one looks at me.”

He raised a brow, but by the look on her face, she wasn’t joking.

Some part of him wanted to protest, but he let her do as she wished, grabbing whatever little bits of clothes she’d picked out and hiding back in the pod. The door shut behind her, and Vegeta, without thinking, took the few steps necessary to stand in front of it and watch  passersby . 

Thankfully, it seemed that commerce this time of day –or night—was slow. Only a few aliens, and they all seemed interested in nothing more than their own pathetic lives. 

Then  Bulma emerged, wearing Earthling clothes that, of course, showed plenty of her arms and legs. 

The dresser was capsuled again, and that was that. They made their way back to the hotel, somehow being lucky enough to not meet with the other Earthlings again, and Raditz was still snoring away. He had noticed, however, that the whole walk back, although  Bulma’s limbs still had an inflamed tinge to it, she seemed to be walking better than before. And she seemed.... Happier. Not that he’d ask her about that. Perhaps she’d missed her sister. He couldn’t imagine acting the same upon seeing  Tarble again, but then again, Earthlings always seemed so strange. And it already felt like they were rubbing off on him enough.

“You didn’t hurt anyone, right?”  Bulma asked, once  Bulma had flopped down on the bed and Vegeta had decided he was more vastly more comfortable throwing off the blood-ridden covers of the bed across from her and laying on the bare mattress. Stupid question. She didn’t trust him. Though he supposed if he were in her position, he wouldn’t trust him, either. But he also wouldn’t care what he did.

“No,” he replied, with enough bristle in his voice to get it through to her that he wasn’t happy about it. “As much as that cuckold tried, he didn’t hurt me, either.”

She was quiet in the dark for a few moments. But, just like her, not for long.

“We weren’t dating anymore. He’s not a cuckold. He just... Doesn’t understand.” He scowled at that, but had nothing to say to it. He was a pointless man, in  Bulma’s past. It was done. He’d much prefer it if he never had to think about the goddamn man ever again.

“...Do you have family, Vegeta? Or are they all dead?”

This one he didn’t answer. It wasn’t any of her business. She always wanted to talk about feelings. To poke and prod. He remained silent, until he could hear her signature huff of irritation.

“I have a planet picked out to go to next. We’ll go tomorrow after eating. Rest your limbs some more. The flight for it won’t be long, it’s close.” Anything to change the subject to something more reasonable. Something that wasn’t about feelings, or relationships, or anything else that made Vegeta squirm. But he could still see her looking at him, in the dark. Her eyes were unfocused, as they always were when there wasn’t enough light for her to properly see. Not even her vision could compete with a Saiyan’s. What did she see? Just his outline? Did she know he was staring back at her? Did she know he could see her hand on her stomach again?

“After that, we’ll find some hospital that can take Earthlings and deal with... That.”

She was giving him the silent treatment, now. She stared at him for a while longer, before finally turning over and facing her back to him. 

It was impossible to ever hope to understand her. Though he found himself much preferring it when she voiced her every thought with anger and confidence. This quiet contemplation gave him unease. It never meant anything good. 

That’s how she left him, her  ki pittering out into a soft sensation as she went to sleep yet again. The altercation and all the walking must have tired her out. He’d have to pay attention to how she would do on the mission, if she was going to be this tired. 

He decided that it was worthless to go back to bed, and instead just rested on the mattress, quietly focusing on to the two little balls of  ki he could feel at the other end of the dark, quiet room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written SO MUCH today. Not just this. I posted a Vinland Saga thing that's like 5 pages that I zoomed through all today, too. I've been writing for like four hours straight. Now I'm not gonna think about it for a while.  
> If you like Vinland Saga, feel free to check it out. It's manga, not anime, so be careful of spoilers. I'll probably write a few more chapters for it but don't expect it to be the length of this, it's just some ideas I had since I've gotten so hardcore interested in it lately.
> 
> Love you all! Happy Valentine's Day.


	26. Electrocuted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raditz, Bulma, and Vegeta continue their adventure on another planet.

**Her POV**

While it was difficult to keep a normal sleeping schedule on planets that had longer than usual days or planets where the sun never seemed to set, it proved even more difficult when there was no sun at all. Raditz woke up easily enough, but Vegeta had to finally tell her it was time to get going when she’d attempted to go back to sleep again after waking up in pitch blackness. Her head throbbed from laying too long, though as they walked through the streets, she found it was even easier to move her limbs than before. She hadn’t been permanently hurt, it seemed.

They stopped by a restaurant, just like Vegeta had said they would. She wasn’t sure if it was intentional on his point, but once she’d sat down, she realized it was just outside of where  Yamcha , Krillin, and Tights had confronted them the night before. Her suspicion of it was confirmed when the waiter made a passing comment that there were a few people yesterday asking about someone with  Bulma’s description. 

She didn’t complain, however. Regardless of if Vegeta had intentionally done it, the food they served was close enough to something on Earth that she couldn’t dare kick up a fuss. It’d been so long since she’d had something like pizza, and the dish they served that looked like an approximate to it must have been the most delicious thing she’d had in years. It was only afterward that she realized she’d eaten the whole thing herself, without Vegeta nor Raditz even taking a slice from her. A whole pizza, and she hadn’t even noticed until the large pan sat empty in front of her. 

Vegeta had passed a glance at her when the realization came, and pushed a portion of his own food in her direction—something like this planet’s equivalent to sliders. That she didn’t take. Her stomach gargled, and by the time they paid, she had grabbed a couple of the sliders to eat as they walked. 

Maybe she had a parasite again, or it was the same one as before, she had first thought. But then she remembered—Of course.  Of course she had a parasite. It wasn’t exactly the right word for it, but...  Saiyans did eat a lot. 

It would have been nice to be able to ask Chi-Chi about this, but it wasn’t like she planned on keeping it. Her eyes floated to Vegeta, walking a pace ahead of her as he led them both to the  station they’d left the pods. He had been completely comfortable with the idea of abortion. But he seemed like he’d been paying special attention to her. More than usual. Did he care? Did he want her to get rid of it? She could think forever about what the look he gave her meant, when she first said she wanted to get rid of it. He had been silent before agreeing, after all. But thinking wasn’t ever going to make her a mind reader. And no matter what, they were two very different beings. 

...Why did she even care? It didn’t matter to her what he thought. She’d get it regardless. The very idea that she cared frustrated her even more than the idea of Vegeta having any interest in what was growing inside of her. Why did she even want to know his feelings? 

“Why are you so quiet? Are you falling asleep?”  Bulma blinked at Vegeta’s words. He hadn’t glanced back to look at her, but she knew well enough that he was talking to her. He never gave a shit about how much Raditz talked, and they had passed a few words in between each other as they walked, though  Bulma hadn’t been paying attention to what it was about.

“I’m thinking.” She replied back, a response that got Vegeta to glance back at her with a brow more furrowed than usual.

“Don’t you usually think out loud?” That was his reply back, one that got a laugh from Raditz. She scowled. 

“You’re going to regret asking that,” Raditz told him. That made her scowl. Vegeta had passed another glance at her after that, but she wasn’t budging. He didn’t need to know she was wondering about what he was thinking. It wasn’t as if he’d answer her, anyway.

But even so, once they’d reached the pods, she found herself looking at him for a little bit longer before getting in. 

No. It was stupid of her to care what he thought. That was her final decision on the matter, as the pods took off. She slumped down into the seat, and after a moment of pouting, she fished out the device Tights had given her. There was a message on it. When had she texted? She hadn’t even noticed. Maybe when she was asleep.

_ Hi!! I’ve got a new phone now, so you can text me from here! Jaco was mad, but since he was so little help, I made him pay for it. He tried to tell me he needed the money for his girlfriend. Can you believe he has a girlfriend? _

She stared down at the message, struck by how... Normal it felt. No questions of where her headspace was at, just an innocent message, the same as she’d get from any friend with a phone before everything went down. It felt odd, but at the same time... Pleasant. She stared quietly down at it, and after deliberating, finally sent back a message of her own. 

_ I didn’t notice you sent this until now. We’re headed off to a new planet now. Is everything calm? _

She stared down at the message. ...It wasn’t like she’d get a response right away. Tights was probably busy doing anything else. She shouldn’t expect—

A ‘...’ popped up underneath her message. Tights was typing. And a second later:

_ Yamcha _ _ complained a lot but they’re back on Earth. I’m not sure how I managed to convince them. I’ll let you know if there’s any problems.  _

Huh.

She smiled down at the message, and started to type away at the phone to give a reply.

.

.

.

The time snuck up on Bulma, with her sister to chat with for once. The alarm of the pod alerting that they were about to land took her by complete surprise. She buckled herself in and gave Tights a quick goodbye message before putting the phone away, just in time for the actual landing.

And damn it, no matter how much padding she gave this pod, no matter how well she was strapped down, some part of her was never going to get used to these crash-landings. Maybe if they were  lucky they’d be staying on this planet for a while. And be conscious during it.

Once the pod had stopped, she gathered up some of her capsules and unbuckled herself and opened the pod’s door. 

The heat hit her in a strong wave. Not as hot as some of the other planets they’d been on, thankfully. A normal warmth, one that’d probably do no more than make her sweat. She gripped the side of the pod’s doorframe as she pulled herself up, squinting as her eyes adjusted. Another desert. But the wind that hit her at least cooled her off from the initial heat. 

“You’re not  gonna faint again, are you?” Raditz called out to her. She scowled, and shook her head.

“No, I can deal with this.” But as she looked around, it wasn’t like she could see anywhere in the distance to go to. No city skylines in the distance. Not even some village. “Where are we even walking?” 

Raditz and  Bulma both turned to Vegeta for that one, who had closed his pod and was standing with his arms crossed tight. No answer. She pressed her lips tight, and just as she was about to ask again, he spoke up.

“Raditz, do you feel anyone’s  ki around here?” The large man blinked. He then knit his brows as he tried to focus, before straightening and rubbing his head.

“No.”

“Anywhere.”

“No.”

“ Wh \-- Wait,”  Bulma spoke up, waving her hands. “What’s that mean? There’s no one around? What, this planet is empty?”

“No,” Vegeta said, when Raditz had been halfway through a nod. “Raditz, can you feel my ki?”

“Oh. ...No.” 

Vegeta looked him up and down, standing like a statue when a sudden wind hit that caused  Bulma to nearly stumble. “Try to fly.  Bulma , do you still have one of those  ki guns?”

“Right. Somewhere. Let me see...”  Bulma searched her pockets, and after searching through the numbers, she popped open one of her capsules and held onto her gun. For safety, right? In case—

Raditz landed beside her with a muffled thump, face-first. He jerked himself up and coughed out a mouthful of sand.

“What the hell is this?! I can’t fly?!” What? She looked down at her gun. The same as it was when she last had it. She pulled the trigger, and... No. Nothing. “What the fuck is up with this place?!”

“That’s why we’re here,” Vegeta replied, beginning to walk out into some random direction.  Bulma flipped the gun around in her hands as she followed, weighing it and trying to figure out if maybe something had just gotten stuck. But no, it seemed like everything was okay. And she wasn’t going to dare open it and get a bunch of sand in parts that seemed to be working fine until now. It was capsuled again, and shoved back in her pockets as Raditz ran to catch up with them.

* * *

**His POV**

“ So what, then?!” Raditz yelled from behind him, more grating than usual. “Does this planet have no ki?! What the fuck are we supposed to do if I can’t even fly?”

“Ki’s just energy, you moron. It’s got  ki . Everything’s got  ki as long as it’s alive. There’s just something stopping us from harnessing it." The mission had been about a string of missing persons and cargo whenever ships stopped in the area. It was a trade route known for smuggling, supposedly, easy to understand why the galactic police wouldn’t be involved. If he had to guess, it was probably some band of thieves that had decided to make money intercepting the route. But this idea that they’d found some way of preventing their ability to harness  ki —Now that was interesting.

“ So what happens if we find someone and get into a fight?”  Bulma asked him, after minutes of walking. Back to actually voicing her opinions, it seemed. He resisted to the urge to make a comment, just in case she took it to mean she should stop talking again. Or worse, start yelling at him.

“Then we fight them. I know how to fight without ki.” Raditz mumbled an ‘I guess,’ and blew a puff of air out his nose. Idiot, he’d better hope he didn’t overly rely on ki. He wasn’t about to have to save his ass if something happened.

And, seemingly on cue, he squinted at something in the distance. He stopped, and  Bulma walked into his back.

“What. What, why did you stop? There’s nothing out there.”

“Shut up.” Raditz and Vegeta had said it together; a sign he saw it as well. Something too far for  Bulma’s Earthling eyes, but coming closer. Some sort of vehicle. 

“Oh. Is that what you guys are looking at? You can see that far?”

“Shut up,” Vegeta insisted again, harsher. 

It was a vehicle of some sort, something like a snowmobile but riding over the sand. Piled up with something like five or six different people. It was hard to tell the species, with them wrapped up in clothing to protect from the desert sun. But when they got closer, he could see their faces well enough. Humanoid. Reddish skin from sunburn, but humanoid. His tail curled around  Bulma’s waist to keep her behind him as the vehicle came to a stop in front of them.

The silence nagged at him. Not even an attempt to communicate, even if they didn’t speak the same language. He was tempted to glance at Raditz, but didn’t dare take his eyes off the faces watching them from between wraps of red and yellow fabric. Finally, the one that sat behind the driver, propped up on his own chair rather than holding onto the vehicle like a vagabond, pulled the wrap around his mouth down. Some old-looking, fat man with a thick beard. He pointed a thick finger toward their pods, already a ways off in the distance.

“What’s in them?”

“None of your business,” Vegeta replied. His tail unwound from  Bulma , and he elbowed Raditz. It didn’t matter what the hell these people did to make harnessing  ki impossible, or if it was just something the planet could naturally do. They could deal with this quick. He stepped forward into the sand and grabbed a fistful of the first person’s cloth he could grab, threw his arm back, and landed a fist to their face. And just as it made contact, he felt something jab into his side.

A jolt of electricity ran up from the spot he was jabbed. He stumbled back, but caught himself. The person he’d punched rubbed his face with one hand, but with the other, had some sort of cattle prod. He rubbed the spot he’d made contact with, and watched Raditz try to pull himself up from the ground—Obviously hit with whatever the hell those weapons were, too. 

He tried to lunge again, this time able to grab the man’s wrist to disarm him, and even disarm the driver when he’d tried to retaliate—until a third had jabbed him again, this time at his neck. It knocked the breath out of him, and before he could pull himself back again, the other two were already on top of him.

“Who’s sending  Saiyans after us now? They better have something good. Knock out the girl, too.”

Vegeta struggled, but just as soon as he’d got the two off of him, he was shocked again. Goddamn it. He kicked and kicked while he was tied up with something, but each time he was electrocuted, it rendered him entirely immobile. Fuck. He could feel the vehicle shake as one of the people got out of it to get to Bulma.

“Wait!” He could hear  Bulma yelling. “Don’t hurt me! No, I mean it, don’t come closer with that thing! I, uh-- I’m pregnant!” 

That got them to all go still. A perfect time for him to fight back, but when he tried to move his arms, he found himself essentially paralyzed. What the fuck was wrong with this stupid planet? 

The people changed languages to talk to each other, some stupid language he couldn’t place off the top of his head. He was jolted with the rod again, and this time, his vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!! I've been writing a Vinland Saga fanfic as well since I have a lot of ideas floating around for that, though it's smaller an dreally just fluffy stuff. I'll tell you, though, it's definitely helped me work out how I should be writing. I feel like my writing's improved a bit, and it's become easier for me to sit and focus and write five pages in one sitting. The one page a day thing I was doing doesn't really feel sustainable since by the time I come back to it I've lost the mindset I was in before. This is much better imho.


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